


I Know You

by Neoromantic_mess



Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Lots of Angst, M/M, ancom hides from everyone and becomes post left, and most likely drug use lmao, shit goes wrong and yeah qe bonds with ancap uwu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 47,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26536642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neoromantic_mess/pseuds/Neoromantic_mess
Summary: AnCom leaves the extremists and tries to start a new life by getting a new identity as Post Left, but not everyone forgets AnCom that easily.
Relationships: Lib Unity, Libcap, auth unity - Relationship, past left unity, past right unity (kinda?)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 47





	1. Post Left

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Libunity adventures](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23803189) by [TooDumbToDie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooDumbToDie/pseuds/TooDumbToDie). 



> Listen, I just really wanted to make a lib unity fanfic, okay, dont judge me QoQ  
> This is kind of inspired by that LibUnity Adventures by TooDumbToDie go check that one out if you haven't :)
> 
> This is angsty especially in some parts.
> 
> I'll see if I can keep up with this work since university will start soon :/

Post left wandered around the streets like a lost kitten. Qe had no idea where to go, or what qe was searching for, neither where qe was. The only thing the anarchist knew was qe left qis apartment about an hour and a half ago. The passing time was, somehow, the last and only clear notion that remained in qis head, due to either qis state of mind or the drugs qe took before heading nowhere. 

Qis house was a small and simple apartment, with grey and dark tonalities that gave it an indescribable apathetic and heavy atmosphere. It was almost empty, since qe hadn’t start arranging the place and filling it with qis things that were still packed within big boxes. It had a tiny bathroom, a room, with white walls, a black desk that Postie never used with books qe never dared to read spread all over it, and a bed with grey sheets; a living room, where qe kept a big yet empty table, a white lamp, and an olive green couch that stood out from everything else. 

“That couch…” qe muttered to himself, almost angrily, while remembering the whole living room to distract qimself. “I really have to get rid of it!...” 

It was night time, the sky was dark and cloudy, the pale shine of the moon was faded by the clouds’ interference, and there were no stars to be seen. Postie didn’t seem to notice the clear signs of bad weather, since it never went through qis mind to ever stop and find a place to hide from the upcoming rain; the anarchist just kept on walking through the road. At this time of the night, there were almost no cars passing by, and if they did, the blinding light that shone from their headlights didn’t seem to bother this young man, who walked with a steady and slow pace, with an empty and dazed look directed to the end of the horizon. 

Suddenly, the anarchist stopped, and looked at the sky, as qe felt a cold drop of water hit qis face. “It’s raining” qe said, with no signs of annoyance or panic in the way qe spoke. Postie didn’t know what to do to escape the rain; that, however, didn’t seem to bother qem, as qe just stood there, with a dull and indifferent expression, still looking at the clouds that poured water endlessly. “My God, if such a thing even exists, why, oh why, must I still remember these horrible things that are in the past, and should stay in there only?!”, qe cried, with tears forming in his green eyes, that contrasted heavily with the anarchist’s pale face and dark hair. 

The emotions qe was feeling and that emerged through qis tears, made Postie sit on the wet, cold tar of the road qe had been walking on for almost two hours now. 

“I was a coward, a coward for leaving you, my fellow extremists”. Qis green eyes seem to shine intensely as qe pronounced these words. 

“Oh, Commie, how have you been doing without me? Do you miss me, do you think of me still, have you cried for me? Or have you already moved on to…” A shudder ran through qis body at the sight of Commie, qis Commie, that qe had always cherished the most out of all the extremists, united with a… No, no, it couldn’t be, Commie would never do that. ‘And yet’ qe thought, with an unusual calm, ‘he already has, history proves me wrong...’. A painful memory passed through qis mind, but this time, and to qis surprise, qe didn’t tremble at such thought; qis eyes, however, let out as much water as the sky, and qe no longer knew if the liquid running down qis cheeks was rain or tears. 

A sudden feeling of anger shot through that tearful sadness, as the anarchist saw qimself helplessly weeping for the same thing qe had been crying before... before qe had stopped being who qe once was. Qis eyes suddenly were hollow, and empty, as they stopped pouring, and were now left with two dark circles painted under them. 

“Me, crying for him… for him, who has always treated me like dirt, who has not once been completely honest with me, who betrayed me when I trusted him. Oh, what has gotten into me?! Being a leftist always held me back, always robbed me from any spark of happiness I could think of having, so why am I now troubled upon this feelings, these thoughts, and this jealousy? Why should I care? To hell with all of you, Commie, Nazi and…”

Post Left didn’t finish the sentence, as qe realized something for the first time. AnCap, that filthy capitalist, what was made of him? Was he still fighting the centrists? Or had he just left, like qe did, and left the two authoritarians? Qe recalled he was close to Nazi as a response to the ever growing intimity between the two leftists. Qe never really noticed what kind of relationship those two had - qe always stayed away from Nazi, and had every reason to do so; AnCap was always so close to that idiot that Postie didn’t dare to come near him. Except when it was for doing drugs together, they never were really together, and as a result, they were never close partners or friends. AnCap, however, had never treated qem in any harmful way, at least, not that qe could remember… Then it hit qem - poor AnCap! If he liked Nazi as qe had once liked Commie, and if what qe feared was true, then how he must be suffering right now. 

“I really left without caring about anyone” qe claimed, with a bitter and intriguing smile. 

A thunder struck through the sky while Post Left was reckoning all of this. Qe jumped in a scare upon hearing it, and immediately stood up. It had only now hit qem that maybe qe should find a place to shelter from the rain. But where, and especially at that hour, and in the middle of nowhere? 

“This was a terrible idea… I have to get out of here. ” qe sighed, with such apathy that it almost seemed as if qe hadn’t been affected by a fever of negative emotions and recollections just moments ago.

As if the universe had answered qis prayers, a dark blue car stopped by qem, to much of qis surprise. The driver had noticed the young anarchist standing in the rain, and overcome with pity, decided to stop by and ask what was wrong with qem. 

“Hey.” the driver greeted, observing Post Left with an unprecedented concern and attention. “Do you need help? It’s raining a lot, if you stay out there for much longer you’ll get sick.”

Post Left smiled gently and responded in a soft and thankful tone: “No, I’m fine. I’ll find somewhere to hide from the rain, don’t worry. Thank you for offering me your help, sir.”

“No, I insist, get in. You’ve been in the rain for way too long!...”

“How do you know?” Post Left asked, without leaving qis soft and gentle manner.

“Well, I assumed: since you have no car, you must have come here walking, and the next gas station is still very far away.”

“You’re right.” the anarchist gave in, not noticing the driver’s angry expression as he glared at qis green eyes. “Could you leave me at the next station, please?”

“Of course, since I’m heading there.”

The anarchist went to the back seat, and said, as qe blushed of shame: “Thank you again, sir, I’m sorry for wetting your car…” 

“No problem, it’s nothing.” the driver reassured, as he glared through the front mirror, and paling as he saw qem blush. 

Only now could Postie see the driver’s face, since in the dark of the night, qe couldn’t see much. Qe noticed he had green and pink sunglasses, and was wearing a pink, blue and white jacket. ‘Weird’ qe thought ‘I think I know this person, and yet, I can’t figure out who he is…’. The anarchist looked briefly at the window and lightly rested qis head on it. The thoughts from a few moments ago returned briefly, but Postie was so tired that qe couldn’t even get anxious and, before qe knew it, qe fell asleep.


	2. The centrist

Post Left woke up startled by the sound of another thunder. The sound of the wind blew through the trees, and the rain fell heavier than before. It had been so long since there had been a storm like this. The last time qe witnessed Nature getting this angry and revolted was the night before that fatidic day. Upon remembering this, the anarchist was now overcome with a bad feeling, and started shivering and trembling in qis seat.

“I told you you’d get sick” the driver remarked coldly.

Postie didn’t answer. Instead, qe just stared in horror at those reflected sunglasses in the mirror as qe realized the driver had not once taken his eyes off of qem during the entirety of the trip. ‘Why does he keep staring at me like that?’ qe thought, with a wave of panic rushing through qis head. The anarchist could feel the driver’s eyes piercing qis soul and searching for something within it, and feeling uncomfortable with that impression qe quickly directed qis eyes towards the road. 

‘Ah, AnCap…’ the anarchist thought with regret, returning to past concerns that continued to haunt qem, and made qis eyes widen and gleam with the emotion. ‘I shouldn’t have left you alone with those two…’

Just as Postie finished this thought, the car stopped in the middle of the road, near a open field, and the driver got out of the car. 

“This isn’t good…” qe stated weakly and trying desperately to react.

It was too late. The driver had already open the back door and grabbed Post Left by the shoulder, with enough strength to drag him to the open field in a matter of seconds. The anarchist tried in vain to release qimself, squirming and brawling with the few energy that still hadn’t left qis body.

Once that mysterious man had thrown Postie to the middle of the wet grass that stained qis gray sweater with green spots, the anarchist clenched into the dirt of the ground, trying to get up as fast as qe could. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” qe screamed, completely disoriented.

The driver glared at the sight of an enemy completely defenseless and at his absolute mercy and smiled in a twisted expression that showed both hatred and contempt. 

“You might not know who I am, so let me try to make you remember - I come here to avenge one of my fallen soldiers, the one you killed while serving the Anti-Centrist and the extremists.”

Post Left heard every word this man spoke with terror and fear, and once he was finished qe observed him carefully, even though the darkness surrounded both of them. 

“You don’t answer? Then let me tell you their name, the name of the centrist you murdered in cold blood.” 

Postie kept silent for the entirety of this speech. Qe was shaking immensely and sweat ran through qis forehead, either from the cold and the rain or the shock and fear of hearing this man judge qem for qis crime that belonged to the past qe had tried so hard to run away from. Suddenly, qe realized who this strange man was; there was only one commander of the centrist division, and that was the Radical Centrist. Even if qe had never seen him before, something seemed to tell qem this person was, indeed, the Radical Centrist.

The answer to get out of this alive was to abandon the past, as qe had done before. Therefore, the anarchist tried qis best to answer calmly and convince the Radical Centrist he had gotten the wrong person. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Post Left said, almost as if qe wasn’t having qis life threatened at that moment. “I never served the Anti-Centrist in my entire life, nor have I killed someone that belonged to your faction. I’m an anarchist, why would I ever obey anyone or work with my worst enemies to kill some random centrist? Listen to how ridiculous this sounds!...”

The Radical Centrist laughed so hysterically and frantically that Post Left, who had just stood up while answering, backed away from him.

“Your tricks don’t work on me. You really think I don’t know who you are and that I would be misled in catching the person who did this?! You clearly have no idea of who I am, do you? I am the commander of the centrist faction, the Radical Centrist, and I know for sure it was you who killed the Political Nihilist!”

Post Left felt qis blood run cold in qis veins, and qis stomach drop to qis feet. This man knew who qe was, there was no way out.

“On the other hand, my friend” he added, in a sinister and ironic tone “I know very well who you are. Don’t I, Post Left, or should I say, AnCom?”

Post Left fell to the ground on qis knees, almost fainting. With tears rolling down qis cheeks, qe screamed with such anguish that the Radical Centrist reached immediately to the knife he brought in fear of an attack:

“Don’t you dare call me that, you hear me?!”

“I don’t know why I shouldn’t call you that, AnCom. You can’t erase your past that easily.”

Post Left stared at him with a fiery look of rage, after hearing that name a second time. In a fit of anger, qe headed towards the centrist hoping to kill him bare handed. The poor anarchist had, however, no idea of the strength of qis opponent. As soon as qe raised qis fist, Radical Centrist grabbed it, and within seconds qe was on the ground, completely immobilized and helpless. 

“Stupid anarchist, you really thought this woud be easy? Without your Communist friend to protect you, you’re nothing!”

This last sentence reminded Post Left of the moments where Nazi beat qem up and then mocked qem, or the aftermaths of qis debates with Commie. The same words, the same message, the same blushing of shame, the same humiliating feeling. Qe heard the Radical Centrist take a few steps and felt cold metal rip qis skin and muscles, and a sharp, agonizing pain that followed. Laying on the ground, completely defeated, Postie could feel qis hot red blood flow through the grass and blending with the rain. 

Everything started to seem foggy and the pain was spreading through qis entire body. A bunch of yellowish white lights blinded qem, before qe quickly passed out.


	3. AnCap

AnCap sat on his seat in one of his countless cars and tried desperately to fall asleep. That business meeting had drained him completely, and he felt so exhausted he could barely move. But, at the end of the day, it was worth it, he had gotten a very good deal and his bank accounts were as full as any rich man would have liked them to be. A tiny smile formed in his lips, as he muttered proudly:

“I’m really good at this”

The capitalist leaned his head backwards as his private driver drove through that seemingly endless road. AnCap knew they weren’t very far from Ancapistan, his most cherished project, the place he lived in since he left those two. ‘ _ Those two’  _ , he thought, with a disdain that erased the small smile that rested in his face ‘Ah... how I wish they would see what I created, and what I’ve become!...’. His mind travelled now to distant and painful memories, and he swore he could hear Nazi’s last and cruel words to him. Small tears emerged in the corner of his eyes, however, no one could see them due to the sunglasses covering his yellowish brown eyes, that looked intensely at the ceiling of the car. 

AnCap tried his best to forget those horrible thoughts, to focus on something else and to see if he could, at least, have some rest. The capitalist then thought of Libertarian, and how he was surely waiting for him at the mansion he bought for him as a gift. Ah,sweet Libertarian! He was the one who had always stood by his side when he needed him the most, who had wiped his tears that flowed through his pink cheeks, who had given him the happiness and love he craved for so long. That man was an angel that God or fate itself blessed him with, and he couldn’t be more grateful for him. Loads of times AnCap thought of how awful he was, the horrible things he had done, and asked himself what he could possibly have done to deserve someone like Libertarian in his life.

It had started to rain. AnCap closed his eyes and heard the raindrops fall and hit the window. He tried to focus on that sound only, and dive into a deep sleep. It was, however, useless. Never in his life did he have such difficulty falling asleep, even when he was at his mansion with the other extremists - he could ignore the screams and loud discussions, Commie’s recurrent insomnia, Nazi’s nights of playing CoD, long road trips, in summary, almost everything. But now, and to his surprise, something kept him from falling asleep. 

Eventually, he gave up trying. He crossed his legs, and took his hand to his chin, his elbow resting on his knee, with an expression that showed both annoyance, fatigue and boredom. A thunder crossed the sky and seemed to wake AnCap from this state of mind.

“I would really like to sleep” the capitalist said while looking at the window with a vague and lost gaze. 

The driver seemed surprised to hear this and immediately asked why he couldn’t sleep.

“No idea” AnCap replied, with a sigh. “It’s almost as if my body refuses to fall asleep, even if it wants to.”

The driver didn’t bother replying to this, and instead kept looking at the road. AnCap stared through the window, looking like he was searching for something. He was paying close attention to everything that composed the scenery he could observe through the window. The trees, the black tar of the road, the white lines drawn over it. When they arrived at an open field right by the side of the road, the capitalist was drawn to it instantly, and for a few minutes, that seemed to pass as slowly as hours, he didn’t take his eyes off of it. 

For a brief second, he asked himself why he was so attentively seeking and searching in that sea of grass swallowed with darkness, and soaked in the water of the rain. His heart was racing and his hands were cold and drenched in sweat. AnCap couldn’t understand why he felt this anxious nor why he couldn’t take his eyes or his mind off that field. 

A thunderstruck woke him from this trance-like state.The white flash lighted up everything and he swore he saw someone covered in blood lying on the ground. A car in front of his left almost as they were arriving. AnCap didn’t need to think twice, and the driver was almost guessing what his next command would be.

“Stop.” AnCap ordered, paling slightly at that view.

The motorist obeyed immediately, as he also saw the body laying on the ground. AnCap left without caring if he would get wet or not, and, with the affliction, didn’t even recall having an umbrella in the trunk. He just reached the place he had seen the body mechanically and bended over Post Left, completely soaked from head to toe. 

The capitalist observed this young man, bleeding immensely, and paler than the white shirt he was wearing under his grey suit. He searched for the wound and applied pressure unto it, while calling for the motorist, who hadn’t left the car, and was trembling in shock. The capitalist could see Postie was still breathing, but very weakly and unsteadily. 

Once the shaken driver came near the two, AnCap asked him for his phone. 

“Are you calling an ambulance?”

“No.” AnCap replied, with a calm that contrasted heavily with his state of mind.

“Then what are you going to do?”

AnCap didn’t answer. Instead, he directed his look at the wound and asked the driver to apply pressure to it while he called for help. AnCap didn’t want to call an ambulance since he wouldn’t want the police to be involved in whatever attack this person was victim of. He would need to be questioned, and, who knows, maybe the police would frame him for the murder atempt. It would draw a lot of suspicions seeing him all alone with a stabbed guy in the middle of nowhere. No, an ambulance was not an option. 

The capitalist was, however, prepared for these sorts of situations, as rare and weird as they might be. Being rich has, indeed, its benefits: money can cover up a lot of things. Hiring a private doctor/surgeon was one of them. AnCap decided to call the doctor he had hired a few months ago, due to his participation in the centricide project. 

“Mr. William” this was how the poor driver was called. “Will you help me carry them to the car?” AnCap asked, more as a request and less as a question. 

“Sure” William replied in a weak voice, almost as if he was about to faint.

The anarchist was quite light, and carrying qem to the car didn’t take much effort. AnCap observed Post Left’s face and complexion as attentive as he had been while previously observing the field. The anarchist was laid in the back seat, with qis head resting in AnCap’s legs. The wound had, miraculously, stopped bleeding. 

With his hands painted red with Postie’s blood, the capitalist called the doctor. It was 3am, would he even answer? AnCap passed his hands through his forehead wiping away the drops of sweat that drained slowly. Surprisingly, the doctor did answer.

“Uh, hello, am I speaking with doctor Henry?” The capitalist asked, trying to hide the shakiness in his usual confident voice. 

“Yes. Is there anything I can help you with, Jack?”

AnCap was surprised upon hearing his human name. “Yes, I’m in the middle of an emergency here. Someone was stabbed. And they’re unconscious.”

“Are they still breathing?”

“Yes, but very weakly.”

“How old is the victim?”

AnCap glared once again at that singular face, and answered:

“Eighteen, twenty years old. No more than that.”

“Alright, I’ll be at your place in a few minutes.”

“I will arrive only in half an hour, I found them in the middle of the road.”

“I’ll wait for you then. I’m getting paid extra for this, right?”

“Yes, you have no need to worry, doctor Henry…” AnCap said, almost with disdain.

“I’m on my way.”

The call ended. AnCap dropped his phone in his pocket and realized what he had just done. ‘Why am I doing this, my God?’ he thought, surprised with himself. ‘I don’t even know this person, why should I care?’.

He looked down at the anarchist again, and didn’t stop staring at that round and pale face, and black curls that rested perfectly in qis small forehead. 

The anarchist was still unconscious, and didn’t move for the whole ride. However, right as they entered Ancapistan, qe woke up briefly from qis faint. Qe opened qis eyes with a huge amount of effort and stared at AnCap, who, however, didn’t seem to notice qis eyes opening due to the flashing lights that gave Ancapistan an unexplainable dreamy atmosphere at night. 

Postie recognized him immediately, and murmured in such a low and weak voice that only qe could hear what qe was saying:

“AnCap… AnCap... And to think...it would be you who would save me”. Just as Postie finished saying this, qe fainted again.

AnCap kept staring at the anarchist’s wound and making sure it would not start bleeding again. He wasn’t brave enough to stare at that face again, since it reminded him of… Could it be them? No, it’s impossible…

But just as he finished assuring himself that this wasn’t the person he thought of, he heard a whisper call his name. His heart almost stopped and a cold blood ran through his veins. He shifted his eyes to the anarchist’s face and saw qe passed out again, as qe had been since he could remember. 

As almost to distract AnCap from such a shock, the universe made his hand touch a hot fluid. He rapidly looked at his hand by the corner of his eye. It was blood. Postie was bleeding again.


	4. The authoritarians

While the two anarchists tried to process what had happened to them and their strange encounter, the two authoritarians, who seemed to never leave the thoughts of both Postie and AnCap, were still wandering around the extremist’s mansion.

Commie was sitting in an armchair, with a half opened book between his fingers. It was  _ The Conquest of Bread _ , the only book that AnCom had, and the only one qe could forget at that house. His red eyes directed a hollow and tired look at the pages and the letters of each sentence. 

The leftist couldn’t focus on the task of reading: he wasn’t paying any attention to whatever those words mangled together meant to say, and instead was busy with the thoughts that rushed through his head and made him feel almost dizzy. Small tears started forming in the corner of his eyes as memories passed by his mind, and he couldn’t handle that book any longer.

With a frustrated gesture, he closed the book, and put it on the small table in the middle of the room. With both his arms lightly standing above his legs, he looked at the clock. It was 2.30 am. ‘I should be sleeping’ he thought, ‘the battle against the Horseshoe Centrist is very close’. 

The pallor and the bags under the leftist’s eyes seemed to confirm that he, indeed, needed a good night of sleep, and also indicated that Commie had spent many more nights like this, where he simply couldn’t rest until his body completely ran out of energy. 

Just as he was closing his eyes to try to sleep for at least a couple of minutes, he heard steps in the hallway. He didn’t need to think twice about figuring out who it was, since now there were only two people living in that big house. 

It was a big mansion that initially belonged to AnCap, with a big living room, 5 bedrooms, two more rooms that no one had ever used and a kitchen. Such a big house seemed incredibly empty with only two people hanging around it, and lately the place had been strangely quiet. AnCom and AnCap gave that house an energetic presence that no one could replace. The two authoritarians, who were pondered, calm and cold for most of their time, knew this very well and therefore didn’t even dare to try to replace the functions of the two anarchists in the house. 

Commie missed hearing AnCom’s laughs echoing through the living room, or the sounds of qe leaving a room and entering another. He even missed AnCap’s long phone talks and hearing him tapping on his laptop and negotiating with an unknown businessman for what seemed like an eternity. Nowadays, the house was filled with an oppressive and almost melancholic silence. This silence was only disturbed in the few moments the two authoritarians spoke to each other. This was one of those moments. 

Nazi appeared at the entrance of the living room still fully dressed, with a light blue shirt and dark blue, almost black pants. His blue eyes stared at Commie with a gaze filled with both attention and admiration. He was standing there for a minute already, but Commie seemed to only notice him now. When he saw the rightist, he brought his hands to his face and pressed his eyes together, to both wake up from his apathy and to hide the small fright that he felt as he realized Nazi was looking at him.

“Nazi, you were there” the leftist said, with a gentle smile. “I didn’t see you.”

“It’s okay,” the rightist replied, as he approached Commie and sat on the couch right in front of him. He then hesitated and blushed intensely as he asked “I just... wanted to know how… how you’ve been doing.”

“I’m doing fine. Can’t really sleep though.”

“Neither can I.”

A small pause followed these words. The two were staring at each other with gentle yet highly reserved expressions, as if none of them wanted the other to figure out what they were thinking or feeling. Both of their hearts were bumping hysterically, and neither of them knew exactly why. Commie was tangling his hands in a frenetic manner, and Nazi took a deep breath in order to both calm himself down and to gain courage to pronounce the words and form the question he had longed for so long to ask: 

“Would you mind…” he paused briefly to catch his breath. “...sitting by my side? I wanted to talk to you.” 

Commie stared at Nazi dumbfounded and his mouth dropped slightly with the surprise. At first, he thought the rightist was joking. But upon seeing those blue eyes piercing through him with the usual look Nazi had when he requested something, he saw the rightist was dead serious. He muttered a tiny “yes” under his breath and thought Nazi wouldn’t hear it. But the rightist, who was desperately waiting for an answer, did hear Commie’s reply, and immediately moved in his seat. 

Commie sat right at Nazi’s side and thought of how surprising this attitude of Nazi was. Surely, he had changed immensely thanks to this war, and had become a lot closer to him since AnCom left, but Commie still doubted about Nazi’s true intentions with him. He had never thought the fascist cared for anyone in that house, much less for him, a communist who had always opposed everything he stood for!... If anyone could enter Nazi’s heart of stone, his bet would be on AnCap, who had always heard him and been with him. 

Commie’s assumption was, somehow, correct. Nazi did, indeed, have a soft spot for AnCap. They spent a lot of time together, watched the same things, read books they lended to each other, and were very intimate. Nazi found him the less annoying and degenerate out of the extremists, and AnCap looked like he enjoyed the moments they spent together. Overall, the two rightists bonded over their hatred for the leftists, a hatred that at the time they attributed to ideological differences, but that now seemed to gain another whole different reason. There were definitely more feelings involved in that loath they felt for the two leftists than the rightists initially thought. Therefore, sooner or later, their relationship was destined to crumble since, even if they never said anything to each other, they deep down knew what they felt and couldn’t escape from it. Once AnCom left the extremists and abandoned Commie, Nazi saw his way cleared to approach the person he longed to be with from the beggining. 

Nazi was cruel. He felt no remorse in using AnCap for his own emotional comfort and then ditch him the minute Commie was free. He used the time he spent with AnCap to his advantage when it came to getting rid of him - he threw at AnCap things the capitalist told him and that he knew would hurt him; he pointed out how terrible of a person he was; he lashed out at him for the smallest things and, various times, seemed to lose control, but didn’t even try to contain himself. AnCap was completely shaken and confused by Nazi’s sudden hostile attitude, but never responded back to him. Somehow, this made Nazi even angrier. Instead of getting angry at him, as the authoritarian expected, AnCap would just cry and hear every word he spoke silently. One day, the poor capitalist left the house to never come back again. When Nazi heard his car drive away, Commie returned from whatever he had been doing outside, and suddenly everything was all right again.

“Commie, what were you reading?” Nazi asked, reaching closer to him, and looking at the book on the table. 

Commie let out a shakily sigh, either because he knew the topic Nazi was trying to bring into the table or because he felt Nazi’s hand gently grabbing his arm. He blushed and with emotion overflowing in his voice he answered:

“Oh, nothing interesting.”

“But may I know what it is about?”

Commie looked down, paled and then blushed intensely. Nazi, who didn’t take his eyes from the communist, wondered how anyone could pale and blush so fastly.

“What does it matter, Nazi?” Commie replied, grabbing the rightist’s cold hand, but still warmer than his own. “I have you by my side right now, that’s all that matters.”

Nazi was taken aback from this answer; now it was his turn to blush. Even if he knew the answer to the question, he still wanted Commie to answer him. He didn’t insist on it though, and instead looked down sadly. Commie’s heart was now filled with pity and regret as he saw the rightist’s expression.

“You really mean that?” Nazi asked, meeting his eyes with Commie’s eyes. 

“Of course” Commie assured him, smiling softly.

“Then tell me you weren’t thinking of him.”

Commie, who had let his guard down by seeing that sad expression in Nazi’s face, couldn’t seem to figure out now who the rightist was refering to. 

“Him? Him who?”

Nazi lost all the serenity that had possessed him until that moment, and with an ironic and scary smile of disdain that he put on when he was angry, replied:

“‘Him who’? Seriously, Commie, you really have no idea who I’m talking about?! I’m obviously referring to AnCom!” 

Commie, who until now controlled his emotions pretty well, upon hearing that name paled intensely, the circles under his eyes were now much more noticeable and a shudder ran through him as he clenched the couch with one hand and released the other convulsively from Nazi.

“Ah, you see?” The rightist shouted, while standing up, filled with anger and disappointment. “You shiver, see how you shake every time I talk about him.”

Commie didn’t answer. He could feel Nazi’s eyes once again piercing through him, and the shame made his blood color his cheeks, through where tears now dropped. The leftist took both his hands to his face and started sobbing uncontrollably. 

Nazi observed him, his blue eyes gleaming with sheer rage, and his face was twisted in an expression of fury that would scare the desesperate communist if he laid his teary eyes upon it. He didn’t know whether all his indignation came from seeing a man like Commie weeping helplessly in such a demonstration of weakness or if it emerged from witnessing the living proof that the communist still loved and thought of that degenerate. It was ridiculous, utterly ridiculous, and yet, it was happening. 

The rightist passed his hand through his forehead and then through his curly blonde hair. He then looked at Commie once again. Only now he noticed he was without his ushanka, and saw how his light brown hair fell upon his forehead and contrasted beautifully with the redness of his cheeks, and the redness of his shirt. Nazi smiled and blushed slightly. To hide the new feelings that poured from his heart, he took a deep breath and said, as coldly and as harshly as he could:

“I don’t know what to do for you, Commie.”

The communist took his hands from his face and lifted his head to reach Nazi’s gaze and wiped his tears gently. Nazi couldn’t stop staring at him: his red eyes shined beautifully from the tears, and his lips were redder than the shirt he was wearing. Everyone thinks crying robs someone from their beauty, but at that moment, for Nazi, it only made the goddamn communist even more pretty to look at. 

Commie was so caught up in his own feelings that he barely noticed Nazi staring at him in awe. Looking at the book still in the table, he muttered shakingly:

“You don’t know because there’s nothing for you to do for me. And you shouldn’t do anything in regards to this situation, I’m the one to blame for everything.”

Nazi couldn’t understand why Commie was so caught up with guilt after AnCom had left them; it wasn’t the first time he got rid of the anarchist to achieve something.

“I don’t understand why you beat yourself up over this, Commie. Believe me when I say we are way better without those two. They did nothing but hold us back, not to mention the numerous problems they created around here...” he said, avoiding Commie’s gaze and instead looking at the window, and watching the raindrops start to fall and hit the glass.“And besides, you have betrayed him a lot of times, so who cares?”

The leftist laid his eyes on the floor, and recognized the fairness of that argument.

“I have.” he nodded, grievously. “But there isn’t a day when I don’t regret it…”

“Regret only holds one back.” Nazi replied as the rain started falling heavily.

“Maybe it does, maybe you’re right.”

“Oh, you know very well I am.” 

Commie looked at Nazi and saw his face light up with on of those mysterious smiles he could never decipher their meaning.

“But now, tell me, would something make you feel better about this situation?”

The communist thought for a while, looking at the wall with a lost yet focused gaze. He then smiled sadly and replied with a sigh:

“Seeing qem one last time, to at least apologize.”

As cliché as that answer sounded, it still managed to surprise Nazi, who immediately took his eyes of the window and glared nervously at Commie. 

“Why are you surprised?” the leftist laughed with a serenity that made Nazi shiver.

“I’m not. It’s just, how will you find him?”

“‘Qem’”

“Whatever.”

“Don’t know, but I’d give everything to see AnCom again, to find qem and die afterwards, if I had to.”

These fits of madness and dedication made Nazi pale and he felt his blood run cold. He continued to stare anxiously at Commie and watched the face he had, just a few minutes ago, absolutely adored be devoured by pure delusion. A bad feeling grew in him as he heard a thunder furiously struck the sky, and a flash light up the room briefly. 


	5. The mansion

AnCap was standing in the hallway, waiting for the doctor to get out and notify him of any advances. He stared nervously at his hands stained with dry blood he forgot to clean with the affliction. A million thoughts rushed through his head at the time, and everytime he remembered the anarchist’s face his heart rushed and he felt dizzy enough to almost pass out. 

The capitalist asked himself, for about the tenth time since he arrived at his house, what he was doing and, most importantly, why? He didn’t know this person from anywhere, he didn’t owe them anything, he could have just left them lying there to die, or call someone to pick them up and care for them; he could do that and much more, he was richer than anyone could imagine, and in a world ruled by money, he had no doubt he could rule the world. So why did he bring this person to his house, call his own doctor to treat them, and now were incredibly worried if they would make it or not. It almost seemed ridiculous.

‘And yet’ AnCap thought, slowly leaning his head backwards and staring at the ceiling ‘I feel like I’ve seen this person before, those black curls, those freckles, it all seems so… familiar. It’s almost as if I’ve done all of this without thinking, by impulse, as if my heart told me that this person is or was important to me, and that I should save them. Who knows? Let’s see what happens…’. 

After finishing this thought, the capitalist sighed and left the hallway to go to the bathroom to clean his hands. He glanced at the mirror and saw how messy he looked - his grey suit was completely soaked and had blood stains all over it; his face was very pale, wet and cold to touch. For a moment, he felt ashamed for presenting himself like this to Henry, and a rush of blood flooded to his cheeks. Then, he felt glad he didn’t call an ambulance, with that horrible look he most likely be a suspect for the murder atempt. 

He looked at the hours on the watch on his wrist and gasped in desperation. It was 3:30 am, only 15 minutes had passed since he arrived home, time was ticking by so slowly! The doctor warned him that, if things went well, only by 5am would he be ready. He told him for him to get some rest but AnCap knew the adrenaline wouldn’t let him sleep, so instead he decided to take a shower and switch clothes. 

When he finished doing all of this, he looked like an entirely different person. Somehow, this helped him to calm down; the capitalist passed through the hallway and left the scent of his favorite cologne through it. He stopped at the door where the doctor had been locked in for an hour now and hesitated; should he wait there or not? He decided to go into the living room and wait there - at least he wouldn’t have to be standing up the whole time.

The living room was a large and luxurious place. It had two big windows, one of those lead to a big white balcony, a black and elegant table with white chairs around it, a couch that seemed made of yellow silk, and a dark yellow armchair right by its side. AnCap sank in it with a grace that only rich people could pull out and took his hand to his forehead, as if he wanted to protect his eyes from the light of the room, and rested his elbow on the edge of that soft armchair. 

‘I just now realized… what will I tell the others?’ he thought, with a slight panic. ‘We did agree in not letting anyone enter here unless they pay or at least if we know them…’. These last words made AnCap fall back to his previous thoughts. 

“Ah, who cares?” he claimed, in a low and whispery voice. “If anything goes wrong, I have that secret room in the basement!” This solution seemed to appease the capitalist’s heart, and made him relax for brief seconds. But then, an intrusive thought made AnCap’s heart tighten.

“And Libertarian? What am I supposed to tell him?”

AnCap couldn’t answer this question right now, only time would tell how he should proceed with Libertarian about this whole situation. ‘Patience’ he told himself ‘Patience…’. He checked the time once again, it was 4:10 in the morning. Exhausted from both what happened and what was still to happen, the capitalist fell asleep quicker than he expected.

He was woken up by a door opening and then closing violently, about an hour and half later. He jumped on his seat, and immediately looked around. Memories from hours ago started flooding in his mind, and there was only one explanation for that noise - Dr. Henry had already finished whatever he had been doing for the whole time. AnCap stood up in a rush; if anyone saw the nervousness of this capitalist in reaching the doctor, they would almost instantly assume the doctor had in hands someone he loved or at least cherished a lot. And they would be right; even if AnCap didn’t know it yet, the person he rescued did indeed have a place in the young capitalist’s heart.

AnCap approached the doctor shaking immensely. A small and weak “So?” was all he could articulate. The doctor took his gloves and his white coat and smiled widely:

“Everything’s fine, Mr. Jack, no need to worry. Miraculously no important artery was damaged in the stab, and I didn’t need much work to close it. Your friend has, however, a lung infection from being in the rain for too long, and has a fever and a few coughs, but he’ll be fine with the antibiotics I left you.”

AnCap let out a sigh of relief, and already signing two checks at the table, he asked absent minded:

“How long will they take to recover?”

“I don’t really know. A small infection like this usually takes 3 days to be fully cured, but with their weak state due to the operation, it might take about a week and a half.”

“All right.” he nodded while giving the two checks to the doctor. “Now, may I remind you of our privacy policy. I don’t want anyone to know about this.”

“Didn’t need to remind me, sir.” the doctor replied, gazing with admiration at the two valuable pieces of paper he held in his hands. “Now if I must, I’ll head out.”

“Of course. Goodbye and thank you.”

“Oh, sir, it’s nothing. I should be the one thanking you for the tip… Goodbye. If you need anything, you can call me.”

“I will.”

And with that said, the doctor left the house with a victorious look in his face.

Meanwhile, AnCap entered the room where Postie had been treated. Everything was cleaned up. The anarchist was wearing one of AnCap’s pyjamas that were too large for qem, and slept with a serene expression, only disturbed by intermittent small coughs or qem turning from one side to the other. The capitalist sat at the end of the bed and took the opportunity to take a closer look at Post Left. 

The few rays of sunshine started painting the sky in beautiful orange and pink colours, and the room gained a golden tonality with their entrance through the window. AnCap paled and blushed multiple times while staring at the stranger lying on that bed, sleeping quietly, with those black curls falling on his forehead, those pinkish red lips, redder than usual due to the fever, and those light brown freckles, that small stature; only that pallor contrasted with everything he remembered - AnCap tied it all into one person. ‘Could it be?...’ his heart almost dropped to his stomach and started beating at an accelerated pace. 

This rush of new emotions tired him immensely. A silent and heavy somnolence took him over and he laid down. ‘Good thing they’re small and this bed is really big, otherwise I wouldn’t have any place to sleep.’ AnCap thought, right before falling asleep as fast as a baby.


	6. The anarchists

Postie woke up in a cold sweat, almost startled. Qe opened qis eyes and looked around, trying to make sense of where qe was. Not being able to do so made qe even more scared than qe initially was. The anarchist tried to move qis body and stand up, but an agonizing pain in qis left side stopped qem right as qe tried to do so. 

‘Where am I?’ qe thought while trying to remember what happened the night before. A perfume scented the air lightly, and Post Left swore that qe recognized that odor from somewhere. Qe then directed qis look at AnCap, who was standing right by qis side, sleeping heavily. Postie backed away in a jump and blushed intensely, but the pain that emanated from the still recent wound drained all the color qe had gained in qis cheeks. Every lost memory from last night passed through qis mind - the talk with the Radical Centrist, qem lying on the ground bleeding, the trip in AnCap’s car, qe’s words to him, all in confusing and vivid flashes.

“It was you, AnCap, it was you who saved me…”  qe muttered softly, and with a tender and sad smile. “Will you be able to recognize your lost extremist colleague?”. Postie looked down at qis wound near qis belly and let out a sigh, and stared at the capitalist again; he was without his fedora, and his light brown, almost blonde curls spread through a red pillow.

“Why would you save me, AnCap?” qi asked, with an inquisitive look towards him, as if he’d answer. “It isn’t quite like you at all…”

Postie laid down and tried to think of the reasons that would lead someone like AnCap to save qem from certain death, and wondering where qe was, and why AnCap wasn’t with the extremists anymore. Did he leave them? And if he did, why? Qe wanted to know; there was clearly much more to this man than what qe initially thought, and the anarchist felt like asking him a million questions right after he woke up.

But then Post Left was faced with a realization - what if AnCap didn’t recognize qem? Would qe reveal who qe was? No, that wasn’t an option, not at all. Postie didn’t know what AnCap’s intentions with qem were, or how he would react to having AnCom in his house. After all, AnCom had abandoned him and left him to deal with the two authoritarians alone, which wasn’t a very easy task. AnCap probably hated AnCom for that, and if he did, qe wouldn’t blame him; qe had been so selfish and was blinded with qis own pain to think about anyone else. A small tear fell on the pillow qis head was lying. 

“I’m sorry” the anarchist whispered regretfully.

Postie took a deep breath, and tried to sleep again, since qe still felt extremely tired and exhausted from everything that had happened. Qe closed qis eyes, but as qe was almost falling asleep, qe started coughing frenetically, and almost ran out of air. AnCap woke up upon hearing the other anarchist and immediately reached out to qem in an instinctive manner that surprised both of them. When it stopped, AnCap stood up and took his hand to Postie’s forehead.

“Are you feeling better, now?” he asked, with a caring tone Postie never knew AnCap could pull out.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just need some air to breathe…”

“You’re burning up.”

Postie was confused, and waited for a sign or a word, to see if AnCap knew who qe was or not, so qe didn’t say anything and instead just looked down. Almost as if the capitalist had guessed qis thoughts, he added with a certain indifference:

“You were in pretty bad shape last night when I found you; someone stabbed you and you were bleeding a lot. Do you remember anything?”

Postie paled upon seeing the scenes from last night pass by in qis mind; but, with the emotional control qe gained while taking the identity of Post Left, qe answered with a calm that seemed almost impossible to achieve while talking of such a situation:

“No, not at all.”

‘You’re lying’ AnCap thought, while staring at the anarchist with a look that qe could feel piercing through qis soul, trying to unveil it from its mysteries.

“All I remember is a drive in a car to a shiny place.” qe added, hiding the emotion in qis voice. 

AnCap smiled and answered with a proud expression:

“That shiny place is Ancapistan, you’re in Ancapistan, and I was the one who drove you here.”

“Ancapistan…” qe repeated, with a surprised voice. “If I’m in Ancapistan, then you must be…”

“AnCap! Nice to meet you.” the capitalist smiled widely, like he did when he wanted to hide his emotions, and stretched his arm to Postie, who raised qis arm to accept the greeting. It was clear to qem now - AnCap didn’t recognize qem. Upon realizing this, qe felt a mixture of both relief, disappointment and sadness, but kept on the same serene expression qe had from the beginning.

“I’m Post Left, thank you for saving my life. I don’t know how to repay you…”

“Don’t worry about it.” AnCap assured qem, with a selfless attitude that Postie never saw AnCap adopt and, because of that, surprised qem immensely. “You’ll have plenty of time to think about that, you need to rest and recover now.”

Postie couldn’t stop staring at this young business man, with that yellow suit, black tie; he looked like he just came from a business meeting. 

“Are you leaving?” qe asked with softness, while AnCap was putting on his fedora. 

“Now, no. But in a few hours, unfortunately, yes. I have business to attend to.”

“Have you been successful around here?”

AnCap grinned and with a bright smile of sheer pride, he answered:

“Yes, I’m successful as any businessman would dream to be. Besides, in Ancapistan, I can have anything I’ve ever dreamed of.”

“You built this place?”

“Well, sort of, I didn’t do it alone though. It’s a big project that came to life better than expected.”

“I would like to visit it.”

“When you are well, I promise to take you on a tour, as long as you pay.” he let out a small chuckle that made the anarchist smile.

Postie didn’t reply. A brief moment of silence followed AnCap’s words while he looked at the mirror smiling and gently touching his hair to fix it. The anarchist sat on the bed, and, with qis weak and tired eyes, stared at the capitalist with a tender expression full of affection. Two minutes passed without any of them saying anything, and exchanging looks at each other every thirty seconds. 

“And are you happy here?” Post Left asked, breaking the silent atmosphere.

AnCap was taken aback by this question. He turned to Postie with a surprised look, and his heart sank.

“I am.” AnCap muttered. “I have everything I ever wanted. Why wouldn’t I be happy?” But it seemed like the capitalist asked this question more to himself than to Post Left. 

“I don’t know, AnCap - I can call you that, right?”

“Of course.” and as if he desperately wanted to change the subject, he added: “I have to go, I’ll ask my maid to make some tea for you. Don’t worry, she won’t tell anyone you’re here. She’ll be here for anything you need.” 

“I can take care of myself, just, leave everything I need here… I can’t really stand up due to the pain.”

“As you wish.” 

Postie saw AnCap heading to the door, and moving forward in the bed, as if qe wanted to jump and stop AnCap from leaving, qe asked:

“Wait, AnCap, just one more thing…” 

AnCap turned around and saw those beautiful green eyes looking at him, and instantly replied:

“Yes, Post Left?” 

“Why… why are you doing all of this for me?” 

AnCap paled and with hesitation in his voice, he answered:

“I really don’t know… Forgive me, this is weird and you’ll probably laugh, but, I… I feel like… I know you?” 

Contrary to what AnCap expected, Postie didn’t laugh. Instead, qis eyes widened, a shiver ran through qis body and qe backed away in a small startle. AnCap looked more worried then surprised with this reaction, and was about to ask if qe felt well, when the anarchist, with an emotion that was rare in qis voice, stopped him:

“Why do you think that?”

“Something about you seems familiar to me, like we’ve met before.” Postie paled intensely and qis heart was racing. “It’s just a silly idea that lives in my mind, forget it! If I knew it would disturb you, I’d never tell it to you…”

“No, no, it’s okay.” Post Left said, trying to calm qis heart. “I think it’s the stress from everything that has put me in this state, it’s not your fault…”

AnCap nodded and glanced once more at the anarchist that was now in a completely different state of mind, looking down with a serious expression and tangling qis hands nervously. The capitalist turned his back and before leaving, told Postie he would be back soon. Qe didn’t move; he closed the door and left the anarchist alone with qis thoughts and mysteries that he wanted so bad to decipher.

‘It’s them’ AnCap thought, while he walked through the hallway to the kitchen. ‘It really is you, AnCom...’


	7. Libertarian

While Postie was left alone with qis thoughts, AnCap headed to the kitchen to find his maid and ask her to make him some tea. We know that this tea wasn’t for him and was instead for the wounded anarchist, and we also know what the capitalist was thinking while heading there. 

All in all, the two anarchists were both dealing with a turbulence of hopes, speculations and emotions that they chose to hide from each other. AnCap arrived at the kitchen with a serious and absent minded expression that contrasted with his usual good mood, that he showed through a laid back smirk in his face. He passed by the kitchen and almost mechanically asked the maid to make tea. Then, he went to the living room and sat on the couch, returning again to his thoughts.

He knew for sure Postie was AnCom. It could only be them; not once did AnCap ever forget that face, that voice, those mannerisms. And how could he? For AnCom he suffered in silence every time he saw qem with Commie; for AnCom he wept every night; for AnCom he handled every insult Nazi threw at him when the authoritarian found out about AnCap’s feelings for qem; for AnCom he handled the agonizing pain of heartbreak without ever tellin qem how he felt. 

Oh, how many times did he whisper that name when he saw how badly Commie treated qem; when he catched qem crying while lying on the couch, when qe thought no one was there; when he heard those two fight and Commie almost hit qem; when he saw AnCom’s descend into buying him more and more drugs to numb the pain qe felt; when they would both get high, and open up about so many things, and sometimes, at the end of those sessions, AnCap would gaze with sheer terror at AnCom, as qe laughed hysterically with tears falling down qis cheeks? How many nights did he spend fully awake, fearing that AnCom would end qis life or hurt qimself while he slept?

‘Ah, AnCom… If only you knew how much I suffered for you…’ he thought, with sadness overcoming him by remembering all of these terrible things. ‘You were never good to yourself by loving him, and I was never good to myself by loving you…’. 

But now, and more than ever, like the universe longed for him to suffer even more, AnCap felt fascinated by the anarchist, and especially qis sudden change. 

Post Left was definitely AnCom, no doubt of that - he could still see traces from the anarchist all over Postie and this scared him immensely. But qe was so different, so mature, so apathetic, so cold to touch, even with the fever qe had. 

Who was this Post Left? And how did they come to light? Why was AnCom hiding from everything, from everyone, and from qis past with the other extremists? Commie just told them AnCom had abandoned the team, but never explained what really happened to qem. Nazi didn’t care at all, and was just overjoyed when he heard that that degenerate, his worst enemy, was finally gone and didn’t ask any questions. AnCap was confused to say the least; he didn’t know how to react - he felt hurt and somewhat betrayed, but at the same time, he felt happy for qem; qe had the guts to leave that goddamn communist and the toxic relationship qe had with him behind, and AnCap admired qem for that. To keep this admiration he also didn’t bother Commie to tell him the whole details. 

Then it hit AnCap - he didn’t know who Post Left was at all; he knew AnCom, but he was sure the anarchist wasn’t the same person qe used to be when qe was with the extremists. He didn’t know what happened to qem after qe left, what qe had been up to, and, most importantly, how qe ended up getting stabbed and almost dying. 

‘I knew and loved AnCom, now it’s time for me to know Post Left, and, who knows, love them as well.’ he thought, with a small and sad smile.

The maid was already done with the tea; AnCap explained everything to his maid, and she didn’t ask any questions. He asked her to go to his room and leave a cup of tea for qem. She obeyed instantly and the capitalist continued reminiscing in his memories and thoughts.

He was about to ask for some tea when he heard the doorbell ring. He didn’t even need to think about who it was. He stood up from the couch in a jump and went to open the door. The figure of Libertarian appeared right in front of him; they hugged tightly and kissed briefly but with sheer passion. AnCap looked at Libertarian and thought he looked more beautiful than ever - his black straight hair pushed back loosely yet gracefully, those blue greyish eyes, those light pink lips that drew a beautiful smile and he was wearing one of the suits AnCap had bought him.

“Hello, sweetheart, are you ready for the meeting?” 

“Of course, honey, you know I’m never late. Come in, have a seat.”

Libertarian didn’t hesitate and went upstairs to the living room, and sat on the armchair AnCap had been in the previous night. AnCap sat on the couch, right by his side.

“Do you want some tea?”

“Sure. Wait, you made tea?”

“Yes, well, sort of, my maid did it.”

“Uh, weird, you don’t enjoy tea that much.”

AnCap stared at Libertarian with surprise, and muttered with his heart at his throat:

“Yeah, I… I felt like having tea today, I didn’t really sleep well tonight...”

The tea arrived almost as soon as AnCap requested it, and Libertarian took his cup and started drinking it slowly.

“I see. Was it because you were nervous about the business meeting?”

AnCap could have answered affirmatively to this question and end the conversation there, but his ego spoke louder and he couldn’t control it.

“Oh, no way, I’m never nervous about meetings like these.”

“Then what is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I know you, AnCap, I know you very well, and I can figure out when something’s bothering you.”

The capitalist glanced at Libertarian and saw that affectionate and loving expression he fell in love with. He couldn’t lie to this man, no matter how much he tried to. He looked down for a few seconds, stood up hesitantly, approached Libertarian and while crouching and taking his hands, he said:

“Libertarian, you know very well that I love you more than anyone in this world and, therefore, I cannot lie to you. What I’ll tell you must stay a secret between us, you promise me?”

Libertarian was surprised with this reaction, and paled slightly as he replied a weak “I do”. 

AnCap looked at him, smiled sadly and then told him everything that happened when he came back from last night’s negotiations, the road trip, how he found Postie and how he brought qem home and treated qem. Libertarian heard everything in silence and with deep admiration and surprise. When the capitalist finished the story, he said, with the same loving expression he had before:

“My God, AnCap, that is such a story… But I got to say, I am deeply intrigued as to why you adopted such a selfless attitude… I could only imagine you doing all of this to someone like me, or, at the very least, for someone you know and like a lot.”

AnCap blushed intensely and stood up slowly. He passed his hand through his forehead and then answered with a nervous laugh:

“That is the thing, my sweet Libertarian!... My dead God, just like Shakespeare's Brutus, I think I’ve seen a ghost.”

Libertarian raised his eyebrow and his eyes glared at AnCap with a confused and curious look. 

“What if I told you that this Post-Left is actually AnCom?”

Libertarian’s mouth dropped and his eyes widened. 

“AnCom, the anarcho-communist, the one that participated with you in the Centricide?” AnCap nodded affirmatively to all these questions. “No way… Can it be?”

“That’s exactly what I thought, it almost seems surreal!”

“Are you sure it’s really them?”

“Absolutely, I would recognize AnCom anywhere, don’t forget we lived together for almost four months and a half.”

“I know, I know. But, why the different name?”

“Oh, great question!” AnCap answered with a grin. “I’d like to find out why as well. Not only that, it’s like they’re almost a different person…”

AnCap fell on the couch after saying this, and stared at the wall with a thoughtful and worried expression. Libertarian put the teacup on the table with a graceful and calm movement, and asked with a smooth tone:

“Well, and have you told them?”

“What?”

“That you know they are, or, at least, were AnCom?”

“No. I feel like qe - I think those were the pronouns they begged me to use - doesn’t really want me to know who qe was.”

“You have more questions than answers…”

“I really do.”

“I think the best you can do is wait. Wait until Post Left is better, and when it’s time for them to leave, since I believe qe won’t stay here forever, tell them what you know, and ask them everything.”

AnCap heard Libertarian’s words and was immediately drawn to the sheer rationality and prudence they carried. That’s all he had to do - wait for the answers to arrive! Curiosity and mystery lead to rashness, but he had to fight that, and gain the confidence of this new facet of AnCom and try to piece together where it came from.

“That is some really good advice, Libertarian. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Be wise, AnCap, that’s all I have to add.”

“I will.” 

“We should be going already. Come on, some business meetings will clear your head, I’m sure of it.”

He took the capitalist by the hand and they both left. Postie was on the second floor. Qe managed to hear the door close and knew qe was alone. With hesitation and some shame, qe drank the tea, ate nearly half of the food Lola - that was the maid’s name - had brought. Some time later, the anarchist quickly fell asleep again, thinking of AnCap.


	8. The evening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i didn't think this fic would get somewhat popular like omg 17 kudos and 3 bookmarks, yall spoil me TwT
> 
> i'm not really proud of this and the next chapter but oh well it is what it is, i hope you guys enjoy anyways

When Postie woke up, it was nearly six in the afternoon. Qe felt a lot better than what qe felt some hours ago - the pain killers had somewhat worked and qis wound hurt less; only qis chest felt heavy. Qe had difficulty breathing and let out a few coughs that were pretty painful because of qis wound. The anarchist took qis hand to qis forehead, and noticed qe still had a fever.

‘Ah, patience.’ qe said to qimself. ‘These things take time…’

Qe heard some footsteps walking down some stairs, and knew that AnCap had already returned. Then qe looked around and noticed qe was in a different room from the one qe fell asleep in. It was smaller than the last one, but almost as luxurious - the bed was bigger and qe was covered with the yellow sheets that it had; there was a beige round table right by the bed, a small window with green curtains hanging over it. 

“Always green... The colour I used to love but now despise the most.” qe muttered, with a strange indifference.

In an almost childish way, Post Left got out of bed and on qis tiptoes reached the window and looked outside. What qe saw made qis jaw drop - so that was Ancapistan! It was a mixture of beautiful, colourful, messy and chaotic, almost like one of those pictures contemporary art gives us. There were factories and buildings everywhere, advertisements that displaced the name of so many brands and gave it that shiny and colourful vibe, the same vibe one gets from _ Pop Art _ . However, it was disorganized, there was no control in where to build stuff and no urban planning whatsoever. But this only seemed to make the place even more fascinating. 

While Postie was at the window staring at the outside with pure joy and admiration, AnCap entered the room and stopped briefly to appreciate qem, since qe hadn’t notice him coming in.

“Do you like it?” AnCap asked with a loving smile.

Qe turned to AnCap and with a thoughtful tone replied:

“Yes, I guess? It’s hard to explain, because this place is like a very complex painting…”

“Ah! Ah! It is, indeed, but that’s what makes it special, isn’t it?”

Postie nodded, and backed away from the window nimbly. 

“I see you’re finally awake, and you seem like you’re feeling better.”

“I can get up, at least. And my wound doesn’t hurt as bad as it did.”

“That’s great. Are you hungry? You didn’t eat much at noon.”

“Yeah, I’m not feeling well enough to eat much yet.”

“You should eat, though.” 

Postie smiled ironically and said:

“You worry too much about me, AnCap!... I don’t want to be a burden, I already am, so let me not give you much more work than what you’ve been having…”

“You don’t give me any work at all, Post Left, you never complain, never ask for anything. I chose to treat you and protect you until you were well, so let me help you as I can.”

Postie listened to AnCap with a dull expression that hid the many emotions qe was feeling. When AnCap paused, qe looked at him with confusion and surprise, almost as if qe was once again asking “Why are you doing this for me?”. AnCap knew exactly what the anarchist was thinking but chose to pretend he was clueless:

“I’ll bring you dinner in a few minutes.”

Post Left didn’t say anything as the capitalist left the room and closed the door. Qe was once again defeated by the overwhelming generosity of this man that qe had no idea where it came from or how to repay it. 

Qe knew AnCap, and he wasn’t like this with everyone… Alas, qe thought AnCap wasn’t like this at all - qe always considered AnCap to be a selfish prick that only did nice things when he knew he would get something in return; what the hell was the capitalist expecting from qem?! After all, he didn’t know who qe was, and unless he…

This realization made Postie shiver - what if AnCap knew qe was AnCom, and was just pretending the whole time? 

That would somewhat explain his attitude towards qem. The anarchist put on an emphasis on this ‘somewhat’: qe knew AnCap had never really paid much attention to AnCom at all; they were kind of close in the first two months of the Centricide, but then AnCom confessed to Commie qis feelings, and AnCap drifted away from qem. Then, the only memories qe had were painful ones; nothing related to AnCap seemed to appear in qis memories, only Commie, Commie,  _ Commie.  _ That goddamn communist who made qis life with the extremists a living hell. Qi remembered everything clearly and with terrifying detail. Qe didn’t forget the fights, the insults, the manipulation, the countless betrayals, the way he made qe suffer and enjoyed it. 

Postie got lost in all this memories of qis past, and started crying silently, but with a dull and serious expression. Qe wiped qis tears, but they ran again through qis face. A last thought passed through the anarchist’s mind - if AnCap managed to figure out qe was AnCom, wouldn’t he be hesitant in bringing a former communist to Ancapistan? Sure, he kept qem secretly in his mansion, but would qe be worth the risk? And if qe was, why? Why was AnCap doing all of this for qem? What mysterious motive moved the capitalist to help and treat qem like this? Qe wanted to know, but at the same time was afraid to death to ask him, and even more scared of the answers qe would get. So instead, qe decided to keep quiet and see the events unfold. 

Just as qe finished this current of thoughts, AnCap entered the room. He walked towards Postie, brought him dinner and sat near qem. The anarchist looked at the capitalist with a question in mind that AnCap guessed almost intuitively:

“If you’re wondering, I already ate.”

“Oh, okay. Still, I’m not very hungry…”

“Try to eat something anyways.”

Post Left didn’t resist any longer, and tried to eat what qe could, with an incredibly slow and steady pace. For moments, none of them spoke, and just stared awkwardly and with sheer curiosity at each other. After what seemed like an eternity, AnCap finally broke the tense and silent atmosphere:

“Were you crying?”

Postie seemed surprised by this unusual question, but with the same calm and indifference that seem to never abandon qem, qe answered:

“Yes, I was reminiscing about certain bad experiences from my past.”

“Really?” AnCap asked, simulating surprise. “Well, it’s not that surprising at all. You do look like you’ve suffered a lot.”

Postie laughed nervously and said, in the same manner qe had before:

“How so?”

“Your eyes, your voice, your gestures, your manners, your behaviour. Almost everything.”

“You’re not wrong.” Postie answered with a sigh and a smile sadder than tears.

AnCap hesitated for a millisecond, but his curiosity made him gain the courage he needed to make this one crucial question:

“May I know why?”

Postie paled slightly, but still managed to glance at AnCap with a hollow and cold look that made AnCap wonder how this person could have once been someone as tender and sweet as AnCom was. The anarchist smiled ironically and answered as coldly as the look qe had:

“It’s better for you to not know anything about me, AnCap.”

Whether because it was clear Postie wouldn’t budge in telling him anything or because he didn’t want to insist on the issue, AnCap decided to replace his previous question with another:

“Then may I know at least what you defend ideologically?”

Post Left’s smile stopped portraying irony and started gaining a tender and affectionate vibe. Qis eyes seemed to have a new gleam and qe answered delightfully:

“Of course. What do you want to know?”

“Well, are you a communist?”

“No, but I am not a capitalist either.”

“How is that possible?”

“Well, both systems are inherently coercive and, therefore, detrimental to the individual, and the individual is, and should be, the center of everything. Capitalism alienates the individual through work, communism makes the individual get lost within the collective. They’re both filled as well with moralist notions that derive from a corrupt and decadent society. Those notions are what we call spooks. Leftist organization is a big spook, that’s why I needed to leave it, therefore the name of this set of anarchist currents of thought I represent.”

“So you were a leftist?”

Postie looked at AnCap, qis eyes reaching AnCap’s, even though he had his usual sunglasses on, and replied:

“Yes, in my old naive days.” the anarchist feared the capitalist would ask anything else so qe immediately added. “And that’s all I can tell you.”

AnCap didn’t say anything. He looked at Post Left and saw in qis expression a glimpse of regret. He saw Postie backing qis plate away, meaning qe finally finished eating. Lola came to the room a few minutes later and took it away.

“If I wasn’t so weak, I’d help this poor woman.”

“Why? I pay her very well.”

“I don’t doubt that; but you pay her for her to serve you, not me.”

“Well, you’re my friend, by serving you, she’s serving my interests and, therefore, me.”

“I’m your friend?” Postie asked with an emotion that qe didn’t usually demonstrate.

“Of course you are. Why wouldn’t you be?” 

“I don’t know, you barely know me…”

“You seem to be a good person, Postie.” AnCap replied, looking down. “Definitely better than me.” 

The anarchist was surprised with this whole situation, but much more with AnCap’s words and kept silent. The capitalist stood up and, as if he was just reminded of something, asked qem:

“You do drugs?” 

“What kind of anarchist would I be if I didn’t?” qe laughed in a laid back and childish-like way.

“You want to buy some from me? I feel like doing drugs now, and I thought we-”

“...could do them together?” qe interrupted him.

“Yeah, and I can’t really give them away for free, they’re expensive around here!...”

“Really? Oh well, I don’t have any money here with me.”

“You pay me back later, don’t worry.”

“You know, I just finished paying my debt with drugs and now you do this to me!” qe said, teasing him.

“Hey, what were you expecting from a capitalist like me?”

“You’re right.”

AnCap took Post Left by the hand to his room where he kept all the drugs he had bought for that week. There were more than enough to share with his colleague. Postie admired that room again, as qe had when qe woke up the day before. It looked so luxurious, yet so simple. The desk was filled with papers and AnCap’s laptop was on. 

“I was investing on the stock market.”

“Isn’t it risky?”

“Not if you know how to. And even if it was, sometimes you need to risk something to win.”

AnCap sat on his swivel chair, and Postie laid on the capitalist’s bed. Qe told the capitalist qe wasn’t going to do weed, since qe still wasn’t fully recovered yet from qis lung infection. This was very hard for Postie to do, since, for some unknown reason, qis wound suddenly started hurting a lot again, and qe knew how good weed was for softing physical pain. AnCap smiled and answered:

“Oh, don’t worry, I have some weed brownies.”

Postie stared in shock at the capitalist, and losing qis emotionless façade qe put on all the time, qe said with qis voice trembling:

“Weed brownies? You- you made them?”

“Yes. AnCom taught me.”

Post Left paled intensely, and felt an agonizing pain all over qis body, that qe didn’t knew if it came from qis wound or qis own soul. Qe knew better than anyone else that feelings, especially repressed ones, could physically hurt. 

“Are you ok?” AnCap asked, as he searched up for his LSD.

“Yes, it’s nothing.” qe answered while wiping the cold sweat that ran in qis forehead.

“I’ll get them for you.” AnCap said before quickly leaving the room.

‘My dead God, I think I’ll die of anxiety if he talks about AnCom once more…’ qe thought. But then, curiosity took the best of qim: ‘No. I made my decision - I’ll figure this out. I’ll have to handle it. I want to know what he really thought of me when I was a different person. If anxiety won’t kill me, curiosity will.’

Qe heard AnCap going up the stairs, and when he arrived, qe looked almost like nothing had happened. 

‘Where did you learn to do that, AnCom?!’ AnCap secretly asked himself, upon seeing qis dull and apathetic expression. ‘How can you hide your feelings and your thoughts so well, like you do now?’ 

Minutes later, Postie had finished the first brownie, and AnCap finally found his LSD, that he offered to the anarchist as well. In return, Postie offered him half of qis second weed brownie. 

AnCap shivered; the image of AnCom appeared right in front of him - those hollow, almost greyish eyes were replaced with AnCom’s big, green eyes, full of vivacity and pure joy; the grey shirt qe was using suddenly turned light green, and he swore he could see qis red and black bandana falling upon qis neck, like qe usually wore it. It nearly seemed like he was already high, but he wasn’t. The picture in his mind went as fast as it came, and AnCap took that piece reluctantly and with trembling hands. 

“Are you ok?”, this time it was Postie’s turn to ask the same question he had askem qem a few minutes ago.

The capitalist blushed and looked straight at the anarchist’s face; it almost seemed like qe knew what AnCap thought seconds before, and was straight up mocking him. 

“Yeah.” AnCap replied trying to hide some indignation he felt. “Just had a weird dejá vu.”

“Ah, it happens sometimes…”


	9. AnCap's past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I kinda hate how this came out, but it's still pretty fucking emotional, I literally almost had a heart attack writing this, and this still isn't the climax of the whole story.
> 
> I'll try to end this fic this week and I'm not very far from it, wish me luck tho, cause university preparations are making me lose my mind. Anyways, have a good time reading this, and i apologize in advance for the goddamn angst.
> 
> Also a little disclaimer: ancom/postie's favourite pronouns are qe/qem but qe is non binary so they/them also works as pronouns for the character

It had already been an hour. The two anarchists were both lying on AnCap’s bed, and giggling endlessly like teenage girls, upon hearing something funny one of them said. They were on opposite sides of the bed, and both staring at the ceiling, just overall enjoying being high. 

“I missed this.” AnCap admitted with a sigh.

“Missed what?”

“Doing drugs with someone.”

“No one around here does drugs besides you?” 

“No, not at all; Libertarian doesn’t, Hoppean thinks they’re sort of degenerate, and Minarchist tried to have some but it didn’t really turn out well, and they swore to never try drugs ever again.” 

“I see. Well, you said you missed getting high with someone, so you knew someone else who did drugs?”

“There are lots of people I know who do drugs, my dealers, some business partners of mine, but there was only one person who I did drugs together with.” 

“And who was it?” Postie asked, pretending to be curious.

“AnCom, when I was with the extremists.” 

“You were with the extremists from other quadrants?”

“Yeah, I was.” AnCap replied calmly. “I haven’t told you this?” 

“No, not that I remember.” 

“It was nothing special at all - we joined forces to fight the centrists, and, well, a lot of things happened and I decided to leave the team.” 

“May I know what happened and why you left?” qe felt a strange sincerity while asking this, since qe didn’t, in fact, knew exactly why AnCap left Nazi and Commie after qe abandoned the centricide. 

AnCap looked at Postie with a look that somehow managed to scare the anarchist a bit. It seemed like he was asking qem if qe was sure about wanting to hear the full story. Qe didn’t give in. AnCap figured this out immediately, so he replied:

“If you really want to know… But let me warn you, it’s not a happy story.”

AnCap made this last attempt to spare Postie of what qe was about to hear. Qe didn’t reply, showing him that qe was absolutely sure of what qe wanted to do.

“Very well.” AnCap said, upon seeing that the anarchist was absolutely sure of qis decision. “I don’t really know where to start, Post Left. It’s such a messed up sequence of events, and an even more messed up situation that it’s hard for me to organize my thoughts and memories from that part of my life. 

«We were four people, chosen to represent each extremist ideology of the political compass. I was obviously AnCap; there was a Nazi, a Marxist-Leninist, or rather, a Communist, who we called Commie for short, and an Anarcho-Communist, who we called AnCom. We all had human names, but chose to address each other by the name of our ideology. 

«We all united over one premise - to fight the centrists, the group we all commonly hated. It sounds ridiculous - how would a group of four people, with opposite views of the world unite to do literally anything? Well, as stupid as it sounds, the thing is, it worked. For four months it worked, and we stuck together. But soon it all went wrong, and for the most unexpected and surprising reasons one could think of. 

«It’s true that the relationships we established with each other were meant to fail, one would say because of the hate that would eventually grow between us. However, it really is true that there’s a thin line that separates hate from love, because our team split up not because of hatred but, instead, it split because of love.”

Postie listened to AnCap’s words with the same emotionless and serious face that qe always had until the capitalist said that last sentence. Qe needed all qis strength to keep qem from showing any sign of disturbance, and qe somewhat succeeded in doing this.

‘Calm down, Post Left, remember who you are now…’ qe thought, trying to calm qis heart, which was racing frenetically.

AnCap was surprised with Postie’s reaction, or rather the lack of it, to what he was saying but continued:

“To keep it short, we all ended up hurting each other in a way or another. But two of them meant it, the other two were clueless about it.” 

“What do you mean?” Postie asked with a pinch of surprise in qis voice.

“The authoritarians started taking advantage of the anarchists, which isn’t surprising at all.”

Postie’s heart stopped for a second.

“How so?” qe asked, trying to hide qis urge to cry that made qis throat tighten.

AnCap didn’t notice how Postie was struggling with qis feelings because he too was now shaking as he remembered everything Nazi did to him. When he heard the question Postie made him, he replied with his voice trembling:

“AnCom loved Commie; after two months of keeping it hidden (though it was still very obvious), qe confessed to him and they started dating. Poor AnCom, they really didn’t  know what they got themselves into!” 

Post Left was incapable of repressing the tears and shed one that gleamed and fell on the bed sheets. AnCap looked at qem, and saw the tear fall but pretended not to and kept going:

“Commie was horrible to the poor anarchist. They never got along very well ideologically, but while dating… it was even worse. They fought all the time; things escalated and the communist would end up almost harming the anarchist; Commie would mock them for their ideas and thoughts; when AnCom tried to do something he didn’t want to, he would just ignore them for the rest of the day… Oh, things, terrible things like these. It was horrible; I remember it very well, I watched and heard all of it with my heart aching terribly for poor AnCom…” 

Postie was paler than qe had ever been. Qe was shaking immensely, with qis heart racing pumping blood that was running cold. A coughing fit hit qem all of a sudden after qe tried to catch qis breath. While qe hid qis face in qis arm, AnCap saw tears two by two, and heard qem sobbing in between all those coughs.

“Oh, AnCom, AnCom…” he whispered in a way Postie couldn’t hear.

When the anarchist stopped coughing, qe wiped qis tears. The emotional release those coughs gave qem allowed Postie to calm qimself down, and breathe in relief. 

“It’s horrible, horrible.” Postie replied, in a way that made qis voice earn that loud pitch AnCom used to have. This made AnCap freeze in his spot for a moment.

“It is.” he said, after breaking from that trance-like state.

“And what did you and that Nazi do?”

“We got together, what else could we do? Both of us hated those two.”

Postie shivered. Qe understood why AnCap hated qem for leaving him, but qe never knew AnCap hated qem before that. The anarchist felt hurt by the capitalist’s words, but still managed to ask calmly:

“Why?”

AnCap smiled with a bunch of emotions that Postie couldn’t read and replied:

“It’s complicated, Postie…”

“I wanna know” the anarchist insisted. Qe felt more than ever a strong curiosity as to why AnCap and Nazi hated the leftists, beyond obvious ideological differences.

AnCap looked down, blushed and buried his face in his hands. While taking a deep breath, the capitalist felt the effect of the drugs fade away. He would really have to do this. 

“I don’t really want to tell you, Postie, but if you insist… As I said before, there’s a thin line that separates love from hatred. Well, this was the case.”

Postie didn’t understand anything. What was AnCap talking about? Why did those two hate qem and Commie after they started dating? Reminiscing about this made Postie feel confused and dizzy, and qis state of mind started spiraling out of qis control. 

The pain in qis left side, where the wound stood, started to reappear - the drugs were wearing off. By the capitalist’s reaction, Postie could see that he wasn’t budging on this issue, so qe moved on and asked another question:

“What was your relationship with the Nazi like?”

AnCap felt his blood rush to his head and drain completely as fast as it arrived. 

“Nazi…” he repeated with a smile full of sheer anger and pain, that scaried Postie more than it worried qem. “He made me wish I had never walked into that damned house.”

If Postie was already lost with AnCap’s words, this only made qem even more confused. It almost seemed like qe was, indeed, a stranger that didn’t know anything about what happened in the house the four of them lived in about one month ago. Qe felt a slight shame in realizing that qe didn’t know as much as qe thought qe did about AnCap, Nazi and maybe even Commie.

“What did he do?” the anarchist asked, more to qimself than to AnCap.

The capitalist lost the smile he had, and replied:

“Oh, Post Left, if I could tell you everything, we would be here all day… I remember everything very well, so well that I sometimes still find myself thinking about the horrible things he told me. He hurt me. I stupidly thought I could trust him, and I did; I liked him. I won’t say I loved him, but I liked him, I saw him as a friend. But he, he, on the other hand, hated me, and pretended to love me only to manipulate, use me and then cut me out like I was nothing to him. Because once AnCom left the team, Nazi was overjoyed to finally be able to have Commie to himself, and started treating me even more horribly than before!” 

Postie felt dizzy upon hearing this and froze; qis fears had become true, Commie moved on and was with qis greatest enemy, the person qe hated the most in the whole planet. Even if qe already suspected it, it still  _ hurt _ . 

“So…” Postie said, in a low voice. “The Nazi and the Commie are together?”

“Ah! Ah! But of course they are!” AnCap laughed as the anarchist looked at him with qis eyes filled with disappointment and sadness. “And I was stupid enough to blindly believe they hated each other’s guts. No, no, they’re perfect for each other -  they're both a great pair of jackasses!" AnCap replied with sheer anger in his voice.

Postie didn't reply. There was nothing to say: the capitalist was right in everything he said, and qe knew it better than anyone. Qe looked at him, saw the anger in his eyes and his fingers wrapping around his tie. Qe remembered AnCap used to do this when he was nervous or thinking deeply about something. 

"But I was incredibly stupid in letting Nazi take advantage of me in the first place, to give in to everything he asked of me, only to then be tossed away, as easily as a broken toy would have been.” he added after a brief pause. “It's all my fault in trusting him; because he didn't stick to only throwing me away - he stepped on me until I was beyond repair. The cruel things he said, the things he accused me of, I still recall all of it very clearly and I will never forgive him." 

Postie's frozen heart melted as qe heard AnCap speak. And qe thought qe was the only one who suffered at that house! How could qe have been so blind to see all the pain AnCap was going through? Was qe so blinded by qis own problems and qis own suffering to ignore all of this completely?! It almost seemed like a lie, a sad and incredibly messed up lie, but qe knew very well the capitalist was telling the truth; the way he talked about all of this was so filled with honesty and sincerity Postie couldn't even dare to consider the option of AnCap lying about this. And after all, qe knew Nazi was a terrible person who would definetly use someone to achieve what he wanted and then get rid of said someone once he was done. But qe also believed that AnCap would be resilient and confident enough to not let himself be ran over by the rightist. 

‘Unless’ qe thought, with qis instictive and perspective nature. ‘Nazi managed to catch AnCap in a moment of emotional weakness…’ If this was true, then what on earth could have put AnCap in such a weak state of mind that he would run to Nazi for comfort? A thought appeared in qis mind and scared qem to death. 

"What about AnCom? What did you think of them?" qe asked, trying to hide the panic in qis voice.

AnCap shivered and his face went completely red. He didn't know how to answer in a way that could hide the feelings he once had. There was no way out now; he had to tell Postie the true qe seeked above anything else.

"AnCom..." he said, looking down to hide the redness in his cheeks "I liked AnCom... very much. Very, very much. Maybe more than I should have." 

Postie's heart clenched as qe finally understood everything. It shattered in a million pieces and the sadness it contained was finally released. Tears started forming in qis eyes, and the anarchist knew qe had lost complete control of qimself.

"If only things were different." the capitalist sighed with melancholy, trying to keep himself from crying.

The anarchist was almost ugly crying now. It was all qis fault. Everything that AnCap had gone through, before and after qe left, was because of qem. It was because of AnCom that he ran into a relationship with Nazi; it was because of AnCom that Nazi hated his guts; it was because of AnCom that he had to endure the two authoritarians by himself; it was all because of AnCom, it was all because of the person who now called themselves Post Left; it was because of qem. 

AnCap heard qis sobs and instantly guessed what qe had just realized. As soon as Post Left started crying, so did he. 

Postie looked at the capitalist and felt a strange mix of regret, guilt, and sorrow. Qe then saw those yellowish brown eyes now filled with tears; AnCap had taken his sunglasses, which rarely happened. For some reason, this made the poor anarchist cry even more. Qe had lost all control over qimself, but qe didn't care at all, qe couldn't handle this. 

'I'm terrible' qe thought, while sobbing uncontrollably 'I made everyone in that house miserable.'

In an abrupt movement, qe reached out to AnCap's chest and cried together with him, both of them in an embrace.

"I'm so sorry, AnCap, I'm so sorry" qe mumbled repeatedly in between sobs. "I am so sorry".

AnCap glanced at qem through the tears he silently shed, with a pitiful and understanding look.

"It's okay, it's okay." he answered steadily and calmly, as if he wasn’t crying at all.

AnCap almost called Postie by the name qe once had while saying these words relentlessly. The way qe cried and apologized reminded him so much of AnCom, he was amazed at his capacity to control this urge. 

After a long time, qe let go of the capitalists arms and wiped qis tears that, however, just kept on falling endlessly. AnCap stared at qem in awe - qis eyes were greener than usual, and portrayed perfectly the emotions qe felt; qis lips were redder and qis skin was much less pale. All of this could be attributed to the fact that at the moment Postie was crying; but for AnCap it was something else. For AnCap, the person right in front of him wasn’t Post Left anymore - it was AnCom. Almost as if the leftist had resurrected from the dead, he saw AnCom perfectly, as clearly as before, as if he or AnCom had never left the extremists and the two of them were still living with Commie and Nazi. 

He couldn't take his eyes from Postie, for all he saw in qem now was AnCom, and only AnCom. There were moments when he doubted if there was anything left of AnCom in Post Left, if qe had really died and gave place to a completely new person he barely knew and recognized. This, however, was proof that AnCom wasn't at all dead - qe was just asleep inside a frozen and black heart, and all one needed to do was wake qem up. This time, he really had AnCom standing right in front of him, and it wasn't some dejá vu or any trick of his mind to soften the pain he felt. 

"I'm glad" Postie said, with an emotional and high pitch, almost childish-like, voice, while approaching him. "I'm glad you left them. The universe was very generous in giving you this place and friends, real and good friends, that helped you heal and get through all the pain. I didn't have the same luck, AnCap: I don't have anyone."

AnCap was so immersed in appreciating the change in Postie's physiognomy that he didn't know how to react to what qe was telling him. He just kept staring at those round green eyes that gleamed more and more as qe spoke. 

Postie smiled in a sweet and gentle way. Qe didn't want AnCap to answer qem, the silence helped qem calm down and soon the tears stopped falling. The two of them were closer to each other than ever.

The anarchist took a time to look at the capitalist in a way and with feelings qe never had before. Qe finally saw AnCap in a new light, and all the attitudes qe found weird when they lived in the extremists’ house now made absolute sense, the small things he said, some hints he dropped. Qe was so blind to all of it, but now qe could finally see. If Postie knew then what qe knows now, qe would have never done what qe did. 

But more than that, the anarchist realized that both of them had gone through the same thing, and almost felt the same pain. The tears they shed were for the same reason - they shared the same fate and the same problems. There was only one difference - while AnCap suffered from unrequited love back then, Postie was suffering from solitude now. 

Postie’s entire soul was taken over by strong sentiments of compassion, pity, affection and love, all at once. Qe felt qis face become redder than it was before, and with a small but fast movement, qe reached even closer to AnCap. He never saw him this emotional before, it almost seemed like a dream; and if it was, Postie wouldn’t want to wake up. 

AnCap was speechless with what was happening. If Postie thought this was a dream, he, instead, thought the drugs were still active and he was hallucinating. It seemed too good to be true. He had to keep repeating to himself that this was really happening. 

Almost as if Postie wanted to prove him right, qe hugged him tightly, with qis arms tangled around his back, and qis head resting on his chest. Qis touch didn’t feel cold anymore; instead, it was warm and incredibly comforting. His heart was pumping frenetically, and he was sure qe could hear it. He heard qem mutter again the same thing qe said before: “I’m sorry”.

Postie looked at AnCap’s face and searched for his eyes. Gracefully, qe broke from the hug and took qis hands to the capitalist’s cheeks and wiped the tears that were still falling. 

All the emotions qe was feeling broke loose, and before qe knew it, qe was kissing AnCap. To qis surprise, the capitalist retributed the kiss as passionately as, if not even more than qem.

Their kiss was short but felt incredibly long for both them; it was quick but so full of emotion and love; it was so emotionally complex but seemed so simple; it carried so much pain but was healing the one they felt; it was pure love, with all its contradictions, with all its emotions and all its beauty and sincerity.

“No, no, no” Postie whispered, panting and trembling, when they stopped kissing, gently backing away from AnCap.

The anarchist buried qis face in qis hands to hide how red it was, and immediately left the capitalist’s room running. 

AnCap didn’t go after qem. He fell on his bed and, with a wide smile, filled with happiness and love, stared at the ceiling. He had waited, longed, hoped and cried for a moment like this for so, so, long…

“Ah, AnCom, AnCom…” he whispered, this time not with distress and pain like before, but with joy and passion that made him believe he was the luckiest man alive in that single moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAH YOU DON'T HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH I'VE GONE THROUGH TO WRITE THIS SJKSKSJDKS


	10. Coup d'état

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I might end this tomorrow but I still think it will take me a lot of time to post, I'm not sure.
> 
> But dw, I'll post everything and you won't suffer with the cliffhangers.
> 
> Anyways, i hope you stick with this work, it has helped me a lot in story writing and construction, and I actually really like the things I came up with.
> 
> Welp, let's get on with it

That night, neither of them could sleep. The emotions from hours ago still didn’t go away, and it made their hearts almost jump out of their chest. 

Eventually, AnCap fell asleep, but Postie couldn’t. It was all too much - what AnCap revealed to qem about Nazi and Commie, about his crush on AnCom, about what he had gone through, and how he reminded qem of qis past with Commie… But even worse than all of that, it was undeniable that qe had lost complete control of qimself back then. Qe didn’t know how AnCap did it, but he managed to touch a part of the anarchist that qe swore was already dead and buried deep down qis heart. Not only did he reach it, the capitalist also did something even more extraordinary than that - he brought it back to life, he resurrected AnCom, not completely, that’s true, but at least for a great amount of time. 

The anarchist’s head was racing and full of thoughts - what if AnCap recognized who qem was? And what was he going to say to qem, what was he going to do? What would he think? Postie just left without saying anything else, qe didn’t even get the chance to tell if the capitalist had or not any notion of what was going on. They were both completely high, it was impossible to know. Postie could only answer all qis doubts by the morning; qe had to wait for AnCap to wake up to see what was going to happen and what he knew. 

The waiting made the anarchist only more anxious than qe already was. Qe couldn’t calm down at all, and much less was able to fall asleep. Qis head was burning, either from the fever or from qis emotional state, and qe couldn’t control the horrible coughing. The pain on qis wound was, however, much better than before. 

The insomnia wouldn’t go away soon, and it was already 4am. Postie decided to stand up from qis bed and went to the closest bathroom to qis secret room. Qe took a long cold shower, which qe wasn’t really used to do because of qis body dysmorphia. But qis mind was so filled with other worries and scenarios that qe didn’t have time to think about that. Qe covered all qis body with a towel and rushed to qis room. Qe dressed in one of AnCap's pyjamas. Then, the anarchist took the clothes from the day qe left qis house, washed them and sewed the gray sweat in the place the knife pierced through it and qis own flesh. Everything that had happened still seemed so surreal...

Doing all of this somehow helped the poor anarchist to relax. When Postie was done, qe dressed quickly, and took a glance at the mirror - qe looked a mess: qis hair was still wet, qis tired eyes were red and with dark circles around it from the lack of sleep and qis face was paler than usual. But the anarchist didn’t care at all, qe fixed qis hair for a bit and left the mirror to go and sit near the window. The sun was rising and a few orange and pinkish rays announced the break of dawn. 

Postie waited for about half an hour; suddenly qe started getting tired and the lack of sleep was getting into qem. A few minutes later, qe fell asleep with qis head lying on the table and using qis arms as a pillow, like a teenager in a boring and long math class. 

After an hour, qe woke up to the sound of footsteps outside qis room. It was him. Qis heart started to race again, and qe started trembling and breathing euphorically. When AnCap came in, qe was coughing again. AnCap was dressed up in a blue suit with a red tie, without his fedora and his curly light brown hair completely visible.

“I see you’re still not better from your cold.” 

“No, not at all.” the anarchist replied, struggling to breathe properly.

AnCap leaned closer to qem, took his hands to the anarchist’s face and checked qis forehead.

“At least your fever is going down.” 

Postie stared at him waiting for him to say anything or do something that would refer to the night before. But instead, AnCap was silent and kept a small and gentle smile on his face. He left the anarchist and sat in a chair in front of qem. 

“I really need to buy you some clothes if you’re going to stay here for a few more days.”

“You’ll buy them and what will you do with the clothes after I’m gone?” 

“I don’t know, you can take them. I give them to you.”

“Well, if you’re going to do that, then I don't want you to give them to me.”

“Then what am I supposed to do with them?”

“I’ll only accept it if you give them to charity; at least do it for me.”

“Oh, whatever, fine.”

“You’re so insensitive when it comes to poor people, AnCap!”

“I guess so; but ways for them to get out of poverty are endless here.”

“You don’t know that…”

“Maybe not.” the capitalist smiled ironically. “But where does this whole charity thing come from?”

“No idea.” Postie answered with irony, almost as if qe was mocking AnCap. “There’s no ethical consumption under capitalism so if I’m going to throw away things I consume, at least let it be for a good cause.”

“I think I get it.” 

The end of the conversation gave place to a tense and awkward silence that none of them dared to break. It was clear many things were to be said, but they didn’t know how to. Postie took a deep breath and with all the bravery qe could gather at that moment, qe said:

“It was fun last night.”

AnCap knew exactly what the anarchist was trying to see with this.

“It was.” he confirmed coldly. “Although it all seems a little blurry to me. I was so high” he laughed after saying this and Postie could see him blush a little.

"Yeah…” Postie whispered, absent minded. “I don’t remember much of it as well.”

“We have to do it again.”

“Sure” qe replied, with sheer indifference.

“Well, I have to go.” AnCap said, looking at the watch in his wrist. “I’m already late for the meeting. If you need anything…”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” qe assured him, with a small smile. 

AnCap didn’t complete the sentence, and instead just said goodbye and left. 

When Postie heard the door shut, qe sighed with relief. Thank goodness AnCap didn’t remember anything and that both of them were high while everything from yesterday night happened! Post Left started to imagine all the possible outcomes if this wasn’t the case and none of them were good. 

But then qe started to remember all the things AnCap said to qem - the whole being in love with AnCom thing, all the suffering he had gone through for qem, and something clicked. If AnCap loved AnCom that much, wouldn’t he be able to rescue qem, save qis life, treat qem and take the risk that he was taking by hiding qem? Postie knew AnCap would go lengths for those he loved, even if he at first seemed like a selfish and heartless person.

‘What if?...’ Postie thought, with qis heart beating so strongly that it almost jumped out qis chest. ‘What if he knew who I was from the beginning?...' 

This thought scared Postie more than it surprised qem. But if he did recognize qem, wouldn’t he have told qem this immediately? Why was he pretending? It didn't make any sense…

Postie’s thoughts were interrupted when qis stomach made a growling noise asking for food. It was the first time in two days that qe was hungry. This cheered up the anarchist - qe was finally getting better, and soon qe would be able to leave that house and finally be independent and alone again. 

It’s not like qe was bothered a lot by it; before, Postie hated being alone, and when qe was the extremists, qe always asked for some extremist to stay home with qem when they all planned to leave the house. Heck, even Nazi was a company, even if qe was scared to death when qe was with him. The feeling was mutual: Nazi always checked if AnCom had qis baseball bat with qem before entering a room. Despite all of this, Nazi was still a company for qem, and when both of them were in a good mood, qe could stand sitting on the couch watching TV silently with him, usually history documentaries an movies.

But now, Postie loved being alone. The silence didn’t bother qem anymore, the solitude was somewhat comforting to qem, and qe had a lot of time to develop qis talents that for four months were completely forgotten. Postie was very fond of drawing and baking; qe also tried reading, but couldn’t focus at all while doing so, and gave up. Lately, qe also developed an interest in biology, but it was very hard to learn without reading, but qe still tried and managed to learn a lot of things through videos, audiobooks and images qe could find. 

A month was enough for the anarchist to learn a lot of things by qimself, and that’s why qe could manage to make breakfast so rapidly. What took qem the most time was finding the food, since qe wasn’t exactly familiar with that house and that kitchen. When qe finished eating and cleaning everything, qe went to qis room again and tried to get some sleep, since qe hadn’t had any the night before. The maid arrived about an hour later, saw all the cleaned dishes, and immediately figured out that Postie had already eaten, so she didn’t bother qem. 

Postie woke up three hours later; it was almost noon, and AnCap still hadn’t returned. Postie didn’t worry though; with the same calm and apathy that seemed to never leave qem, the anarchist waited for AnCap and spent qis time drawing and studying in sheets of paper qe found outside qis room. 

The time passed, and a bad feeling started to bother Postie - not that qe thought something bad happened to AnCap; he wasn’t really what one would consider weak, and when he left for things like these, Postie knew he always had a way to protect himself. No, it wasn’t that. Qe could, however, feel that a big change was going to happen; that something, or rather,  _ someone  _ would overthrow the normal state of things, what in politics one calls a coup d’état. Still, Postie remained calm and waited to see what would happen.

By 4pm, Postie finally heard the door open and shut. AnCap had finally arrived, but he wasn’t alone, since Postie heard two voices speaking, but couldn’t understand a word of what they were saying. The anarchist shrugged qis shoulders and continued on drawing small doodles and sketches of what came to qis mind.

Meanwhile, AnCap was with Libertarian in the same living room the two of them were in yesterday’s morning. Libertarian seemed pretty calm and serene, but AnCap was extremely pale and just kept walking back and forth, while reminiscing in his thoughts.

“And why does it have to be me?” he asked, with the anger making him raise his voice. “Why me? You all know what I had to go through and you still do this to me?”

“Well, you are richer than any of us, and your house is the biggest in Ancapistan, you have 5 bedrooms. And also, they paid for it, and they chose the house. There’s nothing we can do.”

“They chose my house?” the capitalist asked perplexed.

“Yes. Didn’t I tell you?”

“I don’t know.” AnCap fell on the couch with his hands hiding his face. “Not even when I leave them those two are capable of leaving me alone! I hate them!”

“You’ll have to swallow that hate and treat them as your guests.”

AnCap crossed his arms and remained silent with a sulky expression, like a child whose parents refused to give them a new toy. Suddenly, he remembered something that made him jump from his seat:

“Oh God, and what do I do with them?”

“With AnCom?”

“Yes!” AnCap replied, with panic in his voice. “What if they find Postie here and recognize who they are, like I did?! They’ll kill them and then me!”

“Calm down, AnCap! Didn’t you hide them from the others for two whole days? Then I think you can hide them from the statists.”

“I hid Postie in my house from people who were outside of it. I don’t think it will be as easy as hiding them from people who will be at my house.”

“You both will need to be more careful, it’s only for an afternoon and a night, what could go wrong?”

“Postie needs to eat, Libertarian!”

“Just go give them the food when they’re not watching. Meanwhile, AnCom stays hidden in that room.” 

“Ah, you make this look so, so simple…” 

“Because it is, AnCap. Come on, it’s not that bad, you’ll get through this.”

“I hope so, but something tells me this is going to go terribly wrong. When are they coming?”

“This Wednesday.”

“That’s in three days.”

“Are you going to tell AnCom?”

AnCap froze for an instant and replied:

“Gosh, no, at least not today. Let them rest. They’re getting better, and if I tell them this now, I’m afraid their state will worsen. I’ll let Postie rest in blissful ignorance for two days…”

“Very wise decision.”

“I learned with the best.” AnCap smiled at Libertarian, admiring him.

They spent the next hour talking about other things and businesses, and soon after Libertarian left not without telling AnCap to be careful with the authoritarians and to treat them as he would treat any other guest. After closing the door, AnCap cursed the day when he decided to join the extremists and allowed those two to enter his life. They were clearly not leaving it as easily as they entered, and AnCap feared that they would hurt him more than they already had, if that was even possible.

Why would Nazi and Commie decide to show up all of a sudden in Ancapistan and pay a huge amount of money to stay in his house, when Postie, who once was AnCom, was there? It almost sounded like a sick joke! It was like fate had tied the four of them together, and wanted constantly to see the four of them reunited, even when they tried to split up. It was torturous and suffocating. For a moment, he thought of taking Postie with him far away from those two, rent a new house, and only return once he was sure those two were completely gone. Because now he wasn’t only protecting himself, but also his anarchist colleague; he knew how much qe suffered at the hands of Commie, and was committed to protect qem from the communist at all costs. 

But something stopped him - he felt ashamed. He felt ashamed of constantly running away from his problems with those two; it was almost as if he was a coward who’d run away from Nazi and Commie at every chance he got. He was afraid to face them. No matter how much he lied to himself saying this wasn’t the case, it was the harsh truth. 

‘No.’ he thought, determined to go ahead. ‘It’s time to face them, and give them a lesson if I need to. I won’t be scared of those statists anymore, and I never needed to be!’

While AnCap was thinking this, Postie stopped at the living room entrance, and took a glance at the capitalist. Qe immediately noticed he was worried, that thoughtful expression didn’t fool anyone - AnCap was always terribly bad at hiding his emotions. Qis intuition was, as usual, correct. 

‘And yet’ the anarchist thought ‘I was blind to see his feelings for me.’

AnCap turned around and was surprised to see Postie outside of qis room.

“You’re up?”

“Yeah” qe replied, also breaking from qis thoughts. “I’m feeling better already.”

“You’re recovering faster than what I expected, that’s good.” AnCap replied, still perplexed. “What have you been up to today?”

“Oh, nothing much, I just drew and studied until now.”

“You studied? Studied what?”

“Biology, I’ve been very interested about it later.”

AnCap smiled. One of the things AnCom told him back when he was still in the Centricide was exactly how when the war was over, qe would like to study Biology. 

“I like math, personally. I was always very good at it, especially algebra.”

‘I know’ Postie replied in qis mind, making it impossible for AnCap to hear it.

“It must be handy to know math while being a capitalist.”

“Well, economics is math applied to the monetary field of society. So, it is, you’re right.”

Postie walked to the couch where AnCap was sitting in, and sat right next to him. Qis eyes looked at him with a seriousness and emptiness that scared the capitalist. The anarchist then took his hands and he shuddered, either because of their hands touching or because he knew what Postie was doing. Confirming his suspicions, Postie said to him, with the same mannerism that qe always had:

“Is there anything you’re not telling me, AnCap? I can see something is bothering you.” 

AnCap’s eyes looked to the ground to avoid those grayish green eyes staring at his. He couldn’t lie to them. Postie, or rather, AnCom, knew him very well, and could almost read his mind. He was scared to death of this particular ability of the anarchist - qe could sense what was going on only from reading into the atmosphere of a place or the expression of a person. 

“No, not at all.” AnCap answered, shaking and taking his hands from Postie's cold touch. “I’m just tired.”

Postie raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re lying’ qe thought, just as AnCap did back when he brought qem home. 

“I can see there’s something going on, but it’s clear you don’t want to tell me. And that’s okay, I won’t oblige you to tell me anything, you have no need to worry.”

These words made the capitalist breathe from relief, and a huge weight was lifted from his chest and his shoulders. Qe understood that and smiled at him.

The conversation between the two shifted to another issue, and they kept chatting until they eventually had dinner together. It felt strange, it was like the two of them were knowing each other again. To each issue that came up, they already knew what the other’s opinion was; to every question asked, they already knew the answer, or if something had changed, they were not that far from the real and current answer. 

The two other days were spent with chats like the ones they had before. They also spent evenings, afternoons and mornings together, doing whatever they wanted. AnCap was out of business to participate in - his “quadrant friends”, as Postie called them, decided to let him have spare time to prepare the visit he was about to have, so they replaced him in every meeting he had for those two days. AnCap had all the free time he could wish for, and spent it all with his only company, since Libertarian was busier than ever. The two anarchists played cards, board games, watched TV together, and helped each other in their studies - Postie would organize some papers related to AnCap’s businesses, and see if there were any mistakes, while AnCap tried to help Postie with qis biology works, and tried to read to qem when qe asked to. Meanwhile, AnCap also had the time to buy Postie some clothes and qe was happier than ever to finally have something new to dress, even if some of the clothes didn't really fit qis size and were bigger than qem.

The two days of the week passed faster than what they were expecting. Postie was finally cured from qis infection, and qis fever was non existent at this point. Qe felt healthier than ever, but on Tuesday afternoon, out of the blue, qis wound started to hurt severely again. The anarchist didn’t say anything to AnCap though, qe didn’t want to worry him more than he already was. Sure, they had fun these past days, but the capitalist was acting weird: something was clearly bothering him, and Postie started to think it was related to qem, which only made qe worry about it more. Postie would catch AnCap giving qem certain looks, almost as if checking in to see if qe was okay; he would hug qem tightly and suddenly; he would kiss qem repeatedlu in qis cheeks and in qis forehead, and always kept a close eye on qem whenever he could... All of this could be attributed to normal and inoffensive demonstrations of affection, but qe sensed that there was something more. It was like AnCap was worried about something bad happening to qem and wanted to avoid it at all costs. 

Postie thought of just asking him again, but qe had promised AnCap that if he didn’t want to tell qem anything, he wouldn’t need to. But then again, qe initially thought this had nothing to do with qem, and it was becoming clearer and clearer that it had; so qe felt like it was qis right to know what the capitalist was hiding. Still, Postie decided to remain true to what qe told AnCap, and didn’t make any questions.

On the other hand, AnCap noticed how the anarchist was reacting to his overprotective urges, and there were moments when he felt like telling qem everything - that he knew who qe was from the beginning, and was just pretending, why he did it, how Commie and Nazi were coming to that house and how they weren't safe, his fears about this whole situation... The ideas of running away with Postie started to reappear in his mind, and in those moments, where Postie stared at him with qis eyes shining from curiosity, they seemed to be the only plausible solution to their problem. AnCap made a tremendous effort to control and suppress these urges, and at the end of the day he never told qem anything. He waited for the right moment to do so, and remained true to his decision of facing the two authoritarians. More than a question of pride, it was also a question of business itself. So, as much as it hurt AnCap, he had to do this.

At night, the two anarchists decided to try on the new drugs AnCap had bought. Postie was overjoyed when qe heard AnCap bought more weed, since the agonizing pain on qis left side still didn't stop and, instead, was just getting worse. Maybe the drugs would help qem forget about it, and qe was more than glad to do them with the capitalist again. 

After an hour, when AnCap finally managed to gather enough courage, he finally warned Postie: 

"Postie, I need to tell you something…"

The anarchist was surprised and overjoyed with these words. Finally qe would know what AnCap was hiding these past two days!

"What is it?" Postie replied, dissimulating the sheer curiosity that just possessed qem.

"Tomorrow you can't leave your room." the anarchist was confused with this and waited for an explanation. AnCap noticed this and kept going "It's stupid really, but, remember when I talked to you about the extremists?"

"Yes..." Postie answered panicking inside. 

"Well, Nazi and Commie are coming here to spend the day. They're walking miles to go kill the Horseshoe Centrist and the trip takes more than a day. And the poor authoritarians need to rest for a bit, isn't it right?" 

AnCap laughed upon his own irony, and Postie stared at him with an inquisitive and shocked look. This was the epitome of ridiculousness and mockery, qe thought. Life really didn't want the two anarchists to have a moment of peace anywhere they fled to. It was useless to run, the four of them would have to inevitably be together. However, Postie was relieved to know that AnCap wouldn't be all alone while dealing with the two authoritarians like before. It was almost like a redemption the universe wanted to give qem. 

AnCap stared at Postie and saw almost to no reaction in the anarchist's face which surprised him immensely. 

"And when are they coming?"

"Tomorrow afternoon, if I'm not mistaken."

"Very well, I won't leave my room then."

"You're talking this very well."

"What can be done, I've gone through so many things in my life that turnarounds like these can't surprise me anymore."

"I understand you completely…"

The anarchist tried qis best to forget about the pain, but at this point it was just unbearable, and qe was palling intensely, almost as if qe was sick again. The two of them stayed silent for the rest of the night, while staring at the ceiling. The atmosphere was dense and heavy, almost suffocating. Some time later - both of them had lost the sight of time completely - AnCap took Postie to qis room, and before qe entered, he kissed qem gently. 

AnCap wasn’t really sure about what made him worry so much - he felt like this was the last time he would be able to hang around with Postie with this simplicity and innocence; he felt something was going to happen that would disrupt whatever bond he made with this new version of AnCom, and he also felt like he was helpless to stop it. 

“Postie” he whispered to the anarchist. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself tomorrow…”

“Of course.” qe said, but clearly not meaning what qe was saying.

“I’ll have to leave at night to go have dinner with Libertarian. Please, I beg you, be careful!... Those two can’t be trusted.” 

“You think I’d trust a Nazi?”

“No.” AnCap replied, but thinking to himself that Nazi wasn’t the one he was worried about. “Just be careful, okay?”

“I promise, don’t worry.” 

AnCap gave qem one last kiss on qis forehead before going. Postie watched him walk up the stairs, and once the anarchist was sure qe was finally alone, entered the room, closed the door and started sobbing uncontrollably. All the emotions qe had bottled up until now came out through tears, and at one point qe was unsure of why qe was crying - if it was because of the fear qe felt, or because of qis bad feeling, or because of AnCap, or because of the agonizing pain in qis left side. Life was so cruel and unfair to make both of them pass through all of this again. Didn’t AnCom and AnCap suffer enough yet?! Why were they forced to face these two ghosts of the past that still haunted each of them? Why were the four of them tangled in a fate that made every attempt to bring the four of them together, and wouldn’t rest until it succeeded?

With tears falling down and qis head burning from these thoughts, qe tried to fall asleep. About two hours later, qe eventually overcame all those overwhelming emotions and fell into a profound and quiet sleep.


	11. Nazi

AnCap didn’t sleep that night. Everything was prepared, but he still had to finish some work. Work allowed him to cope with the stress and anguish he felt - it made him focus and distracted him from his surroundings. When he finished, it was nearly 5 in the morning. Knowing that if he slept there and then he would probably oversleep, and since he wasn’t very tired, he decided not to sleep and instead went to check if the authoritarians were coming earlier than expected. Nothing pointed out to that being the case, but he just wanted to be sure. 

He spent almost a whole hour staring at the window, with a cold and empty look, similar to the ones Postie had. At this point he was just tired from everything, and waited for it all to be over as soon as possible. Two days ago he wanted Commie and Nazi to arrive as late as they could, he wanted to prolong the time he had with Postie or AnCom, or whoever qe was at this point, and enjoy it as peacefully as he could. But now that the fatal day had finally arrived, he just longed for them to arrive as soon as they could; if something terrible had to happen, at least let it happen fast.

But these wishes, like many others, weren’t granted, and AnCap had to wait until noon for the authoritarians to arrive. He took this time to take a shower, dress in a gray suit with a yellow tie, perfumed himself with the expensive cologne that seemed to never end, and combed his light brown curly hair. After he was done, he looked at himself in the mirror; he looked more beautiful than ever - tall, with his cheeks colored with a light healthy pink, the light brown curls falling upon his forehead, and his youth shining through his stature. It didn’t look like he hadn’t slept at all that night, and he didn’t feel tired as well. 

With a confidence that only true resignation lets one have, he took the stairs and immediately went to check on Postie. He knocked on the door, and heard an energetic and cheerful “I’m coming!” from behind the door. Postie opened the door and gazed at the capitalist in awe. AnCap did the same with Postie - qe looked so beautiful with the clothes he’d bought qem: qe was wearing a light green sweat, a black skirt and was with dark red sneakers while wearing medium length grey socks. The anarchist looked so bright, innocent and cute! Qis eyes were brighter, and qe wasn't as pale as qe used to be, and looked way healthier than before. AnCap paled while admiring qem - everything on that look reminded him of AnCom, and he made an enormous effort to not let out any emotion he was feeling. 

Meanwhile, Postie also stared at AnCap with deep admiration - he looked so professional, confident and glorious, and he smelled so good. Qe never forgot AnCap's cologne, the same one that allowed qem to recognize him. It was crazy how a single fragrance managed to mean so much to qem. Everything in that perfume portrayed AnCap perfectly and qe never got tired of it.

After a short moment of contemplating each other, AnCap said, not taking his eyes off of Postie:

"I just wanted to see if you were okay."

"Yeah, I am. Barely slept at all, but I'm fine."

"Same thing with me. Listen, everything you'll need will be right here. I'll bring you lunch and dinner after the three of us ate, okay?"

Postie nodded.

"Make sure to not make much noise as well, and if anyone comes near your room and you realize it's not me, close the door with the keys." AnCap added, giving Postie the keys he just referred to. 

"I'll make sure to do that." Postie said, with qis eyes resting on the key. "Don't worry."

"You know it's impossible for me to do that, Postie." AnCap smiled sadly. The anarchist admired him and thought that this sadness made him even more beautiful to look at. "I will go now. In an hour I'll bring you your lunch."

Postie was about to say that qe wasn't really hungry, but the capitalist had already left. Postie sat on qis bed, tired both physically and emotionally from all that was happening. It still didn't sit with qem that qe would soon be together with Commie in that house. This entire situation seemed like it wasn't real at all, it felt like a dream, or rather, a nightmare. Postie remembered how much qe cried and  suffered because of the communist, and suddenly felt scared of going through the same thing again. 

Just like AnCap before qem, the anarchist was now filled with a strong will to run away from there, to somewhere far far away. Qe was suddenly angry at AnCap for not telling qem anything sooner. Qe could be out of Commie's reach if he had just told qem about the authoritarians’ visit, and qe wouldn't now be in this state of despair. 

But then, Postie realized that qe wouldn't be able to go anywhere in the weak state qe was - although qe improved significantly, qis wound still hurt, and qe still needed to rest. There was no way to escape this, qe was done for, and this realization made qem panic. 

It had started to rain - the water drops fell and hit the window repeatedly. The sky was covered in grey clouds and the wind started to blow. Postie took a time to hear the sound of the rain falling and the wind whirling in a beautiful symphony, and closed qis eyes, lying on that bed where, in such a short time, qe had cried so many times. Qe just needed to be careful and everything would be okay, it was going to be fine, qe didn't need to be afraid. 

AnCap came at the door and left the food. Postie barely noticed him coming in. As soon as the capitalist was about to leave the room, the doorbell rang. Postie jumped from the bed and stared at AnCap; AnCap stared back at him, both of them paling as they heard it. AnCap closed the door with trembling hands and Postie almost collapsed.

The capitalist walked through the hallway, took the stairs and miraculously regained the color in his cheeks. When he went to the door, he took a deep breath and opened it without hesitation and without flinching.

The two authoritarians were standing outside the door. Commie was looking down, and Nazi was standing by his side, looking straight at AnCap. 

"Good afternoon. Long time no see, AnCap." Nazi greeted with his usual passive agressive tone.

"Hello, Nazi and to you too, Commie."

Commie raised his eyes and mumbled a weak 'Hey', only to then avoid eye contact with the capitalist. 

AnCap glanced at the two statists - they looked exhausted! It could be from the trip, but something told AnCap that it wasn't - they both had endured tribulations much worse than that. The two of them had an unexplainable sadness in their faces that made their eyes adquire a hollow and dull look; they were pale, and it looked like they got older since the moment him and AnCom left the team, almost as if it had been years since that happened, when it had only been a month or so. 

After they entered the house, AnCap presented everything to them, except for the basement for the reasons we know. After he was done with the visit, he thanked them for paying that huge amount of money for standing there. 

"Yeah right, but it wasn't us who paid, it was the Anti-Centrist." Nazi replied, with a strange smile. 

"My gosh, where does he get all that money from?" AnCap asked, almost as if he was a stranger to them both.

Nazi knew exactly what AnCap was doing and looked at him with an annoyed and angry look. Commie was completely out of it the whole time, and just kept reminiscing about something in his mind. This behaviour worried AnCap to the point of him taking Nazi by the hand and carrying him away from Commie to ask, once he was sure the communist wouldn't hear them: 

"Is something wrong?"

Nazi was dumbfounded with the question and weakingly answered: 

"What do you mean?"

"Commie. What's up with him?" 

Nazi's gaze dropped to the ground and he blushed. With sadness and anger he replied: 

"Still sulky over that degenerate. It's pathetic, really."

AnCap paled and shivered. Commie still hadn't let go or moved on from AnCom. It was a perfect recipe for disaster to happen. 

"Are you okay?" Nazi said, after seeing AnCap tremble. 

"Yeah, it just bothers me to see him like this. He really hasn't gotten better?"

"Oh no, not at all. He tells me everything is okay, then minutes later I catch him crying and sobbing. He's always paranoid when I leave the house, and wants me to stay with him all the time, has fits of anger with every little inconvenience… It's been hell in that house. If I wasn't so committed to our cause and our leader, I don't think I'd handle one more day in there! What's worse is that I have to witness it all! At first, it made me sick and angry, but at this point it just makes me sad.”

AnCap listened to every word of Nazi with a satisfaction and pleasure that even he didn’t understand quite well. He could see in the rightist’s tired eyes and sad face the suffering that he went through, the same despair, the same feeling of hopelessness. And this pleased him - seeing Nazi suffer like he did, the karma hit him, it was all too good. 

‘Tables really can turn…’ he thought without avoiding a sadistic smile in his face.

Nazi saw AnCap’s contempt and felt ashamed like he never had before. He started to despise Commie and what he became since AnCom left. Commie used to be so gentle, so calm, collected, wise and always in perfect control of his emotions; now, he had just become pitiful. His voice, his smile and his manners, they were all strange to Nazi. This wasn’t the Commie he admired anymore, it was the weakest, the worst part of him. 

“Well, have you tried talking to your boyfriend about this?”

Nazi’s eyes widdened in surprise with the question. He blushed intensely and angrily replied:

“He’s not my boyfriend! And of course I haven’t, he doesn’t want to talk about it, and can barely hear the name ‘AnCom’ without having an emotional crisis. It’s almost as if the anarchist is dead.”

“Shhh, he might hear us!” AnCap warned Nazi as he raised his voice. Then the anarchist approached him and with an arm pulled him closer. “Whatever suits you, Nazi. And well, AnCom technically is dead to Commie, didn’t they leave him? That’s called a psychological death, and it might hurt as much as a physical one. But haven’t you been helping him with this?”

Nazi raised his eyebrow, demonstrating his confusion. AnCap didn’t expect Nazi to answer, and therefore, added almost right after he paused:

“I understand. It’s not like psychological support is really your strength.”

The rightist knew immediately why AnCap was telling him this, and glared at him with a fiery look of anger. AnCap didn’t shiver and didn't back away; he wasn’t scared of Nazi anymore. Nazi pulled the capitalist away from him agressively and with his voice trembling from the indignation and rage, told him:

“May I go to my room, now?!”

AnCap laughed, amused with the rightist’s reaction. This only made Nazi more enraged than he was.

“But of course, as you wish.” and with this he gave him the keys to his room. “Have a nice stay.”

Nazi was completely defeated. He took the keys from AnCap with a rough movement and walked to his room, with his face redder than Commie’s clothes. AnCap watched him and smiled with the same joy one gets from revenge. Commie appeared in the corridor after a while and asked with a strange calm and serenity where Nazi was. AnCap told him that he felt tired and went to rest in his room. Commie didn’t reply; AnCap gave him the keys and soon Commie left to also go to his room. 

AnCap could have done the same, but instead he decided to spend some of his time in the living room with his laptop checking the stock market and finishing the work he had begun the night before. The house was dead silent, and it only made the capitalist more anxious than he already was. He felt relaxed when those two were around him, but now he didn’t know what they were up to. Time flew by rapidly, and it was almost 8pm when AnCap finally got bored from working. He decided to close his laptop and just lied on the couch, waiting for those two to be hungry enough to come out of their rooms. When it was clear enough that they weren’t coming soon, AnCap decided to go check on Post Left. 

Poor Postie! AnCap could only imagine the absolute state of the anarchist - qe was all alone, locked in a room, with the crippling fear of being discovered. The capitalist checked to see if the way was clear and went down the stairs as fast as he could.

Nazi’s afternoon in his room was not much different from AnCap’s. The rightist spent the whole afternoon with nothing to do but scroll past his social media, screaming at people online, and playing whatever games he had installed in his phone. It was a shame he was without his video games; the hours would certainly tick by faster than what they were now. 

After about three hours of doing absolutely nothing, stuck in that room with the rain outside pouring heavily, he started to think about AnCap, and how much he had changed - he looked and seemed like a completely new person! He was more handsome, taller, and had a weird vibe and charm attached to him that astonished and captivated Nazi. And there was, of course, the change in his personality; AnCap seemed much more confident, happier and much more relaxed than when he was with the extremists. This new personality traits managed to impress Nazi as much as, if not more than, the changes in his appearance. 

The AnCap he knew from centricide, would never in his life be able to talk back to him, to mock him or to humiliate him like that. It's true, however, that Nazi from the beggining of the centricide wouldn’t have allowed this to happen; but Nazi was now too weak and too tired to have the enough energy to set the slightest boundaries. 

And to think he had the guts to talk about Commie and how much he changed to the worst! They both suffered an incredible downgrade after… 

Nazi hesitated, but he couldn’t fool himself anymore - it was because of the anarchists leaving that they were now like this. The anarchists were almost like a source of life and youth for both him and Commie, and once that font was gone, they had become completely lost and empty. Nazi wondered why this was the case, why did the anarchists give them so much, but left as soon as they could, and as soon as they got tired? 

A horrible realization reached the rightist’s mind. Both AnCom and AnCap had given the authoritarians life and energy by offering their own. The two anarchists were the scapegoats for every problem that appeared, they were the ones who handled the horrible traits of the two authoritarians, the ones Commie and Nazi would blame when something went wrong, the ones they treated like dirt when they wanted to, the ones who were brought down at every chance, only so Nazi and Commie could feel superior and better than them. Once they were gone, there was no one to put the blame on, no one to be treated horribly, no one to deal with their flaws, no one to serve as a ladder for them to climb and reach the top. The devastating side effects of the lack of someone to step on were clear in both Nazi and Commie. They were in no way able to deal with each other’s manipulative tendencies and with their frivole will to be better than everything and everyone. And that’s what was killing them; it's what one did to the other, and what they did to themselves.

All of these thoughts were surprisingly hurtful to the fascist, and pierced his heart like thorns. Nazi was incredibly pale and with his hands covering his face, in despair. He finally understood everything, he finally realized why him and Commie were now like this, and for the first time in his life, he felt ashamed of what he did. The big amount of bad things he did were for a reason, for a cause he dedicated himself to, and that’s why he couldn’t feel ashamed or remorseful of them. But what he did to AnCap was just blatantly unnecessary, and wasn’t justified at all. It was just to please him, to entertain and amuse him, to make him feel superior to someone, since he knew very well he could never be better than AnCom when it came to loving Commie. When he confirmed his suspicions about AnCap’s crush on AnCom by forcing him to confess, his levels of cruelty just skyrocketed, and he took all his anguish out on AnCap; as much as he wanted, he couldn’t hurt AnCom, Commie would never forgive him and would hate him for the rest of his life. He had no choice in this, it was AnCap or him.  _ Him _ \- why couldn’t he ever think of taking care of his feelings healthily by himself and rely on AnCap for support? Why was he so blinded in his selfishness to see this? Why didn't he control his jealousy, his anger and his emotions? Why had he been so cruel to AnCap, who hadn't any blame in everything that made him unhappy? Why did it have to be like this?

He couldn’t take it anymore. For the first time ever, as ridiculous as it may sounds, Nazi realized he had been terrible to AnCap, and was now being horrible to Commie by downgrading his sorrow upon the break up with AnCom. He was horrible enough to not care about his war colleagues, and this was unacceptable. His room started to become suffocating and he needed to get out of there. 

He rushed to the door, got out and took a deep breath. He immediately regretted doing this, since he thought AnCap would hear and see him and ask why he was in that pile of nerves. He waited for someone to say something, but there was only a heavy and deafening silence in response to his expectations; the sound of the rain falling stopped - it wasn't raining anymore. Amongst the silence, all he heard were footsteps going down the stairs right below his bedroom. Those were the stairs AnCap prohibited them from using, and they lead to the only part of the house the capitalist didn’t bother to introduce them to. Either he didn't bother or he didn't want them to see it. The fact that he was going there thinking none of them noticed it pointed out to the second option. 

Curiosity got the best of him, and Nazi walked until he reached the stairs, hid behind the wall and tried to peek without getting caught. He heard AnCap whispering something, and someone else whispering back. His stomach dropped - there was someone else with them in the house, and this person was hidden in that basement. He tried to see who it was but couldn't; AnCap's figure was blocking this person completely, meaning that whoever it was, they were shorter than the capitalist. His mind was filled with questions and he wanted to find out the answers as soon as he possibly could. 

Nazi was with luck - AnCap's secret visit didn't take long; in fact, it was quite short and rapid. Once he heard the capitalist close the door he ran to his room, hid behind the door and waited for AnCap to walk up the stairs and pass the hallway. When he was near his bedroom door, Nazi firmly grabbed his arm and dragged him inside the room. AnCap was shocked and confused, and stared at the rightist dumbfounded: 

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" he screamed. 

Nazi closed the door with a bang, and with the key locked it. AnCap was stuck with Nazi. Memories passed in the capitalist's mind and he shivered. The rightist then gave him one of those threatening and angry looks that would make the AnCap from two months ago quiver in fear, and said: 

"I saw you."

AnCap, who until this point remained only confused, hurt and shocked, upon hearing this paled and his heart dropped to his stomach. 

"What, or better,  _ who _ are you hiding?" Nazi asked, after seeing the panic of someone whose secret was revealed in AnCap's eyes.

The capitalist looked down, trying to avoid those deep blue eyes that shined with rage. The rain had started to fall again, and it falling was, for moments, the only sound to be heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY FOR THE CLIFFHANGER IM TRYING TO WORK ON THIS AS FAST AS I CAN SJDKDKDDK


	12. The rightists

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gyaaaa Im almost finishing this and I honestly hope you guys stick to the end.
> 
> This whole work ended up becoming longer than I thought but,,,, i tried ok? 
> 
> college just started but im actually capable of writing this while im on the half hour bus ride xD
> 
> Anyways, sorry again for the cliffhanger and let's get to it :)

AnCap was both confused and scared. He was panicking inside, but decided to put on a brave and calm face so he could at least pretend that he wasn't hiding something. But it was too hard; within seconds he started to shake and he felt like throwing up. Nazi saw the anxious state he was in and asked him once again: 

"AnCap, what are you hiding from me?"

AnCap didn't answer and kept looking at the ground, paler than ever. There was no way he could escape this, he had no choice but to tell Nazi everything and see if he and Postie would come out alive of this. Suddenly, an idea popped in his mind; he didn't want to do it at all, but it was the only way for him to assure nothing would go worse than it already had. 

'And besides', he thought to himself 'It's more than time for Nazi to get a taste of his own medicine.'

If Nazi wasn't so shaken up due to what came to his mind before he caught AnCap, and if he hadn't changed at all, by now he would be beating up the capitalist until he got an answer out of him. The fact that AnCap kept silent and refused to look him in the eyes made him even angrier, and at this point he didn't know how he was controlling himself. 

"Answer me!" Nazi screamed, releasing all the rage he had been bottling up until now. 

This scream seemed to wake AnCap up from his thoughtful expression. He looked up, and his gaze met Nazi's. He smiled sadistically and ironically, and then burst out laughing with pure satisfaction and histeria. Nazi didn't know how to react. Out of all the possible outcomes of forcing AnCap to reveal his secret, this was the one he least expected. As AnCap kept on laughing more and more hysterically, his confusion started to turn into fear, and he backed away. 

"Have you gone completely insane?!" he said with his voice shaking. "I find out you have someone hidden in your house and you just straight up laugh at me?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" 

AnCap could sense the fear in the rightist's voice, and this amused him even more, so it was hard for him to stop. In between laughs, he replied: 

"I'm sorry, Nazi, but I just find this absolutely ridiculous. I have you as guests in MY house, and you lock me in your room, and try to force me to tell you what I do or don't do in it. Isn't that the stupidest thing ever? Doesn't that sound absurd to you, my fellow rightist?"

Nazi felt the rage reappearing again and his face burning up, as he closed his fist tightly. AnCap spoke with an irony and sarcasm that showcased his confident and fearless attitude while facing the situation they were in, and this made Nazi feel small, powerless and almost ridiculous. 

"But making such a big fuss about it means you must really want to know what secrets I keep in my basement, aren't I right?" AnCap added, in the same tone of before.

Nazi was frozen in his place, both enraged and dumbfounded. This was the second time today that AnCap had completely humiliated him.

"Very well, then I'll tell you." 

This giving in was suspicious to Nazi and he raised an eyebrow. 

"No, Nazi, I won't ask anything in return, I'm not that much of a jackass." AnCap added as he noticed the look of suspicion and confusion the fascist gave him. 

He made Nazi sit down by his side at the edge of the bed and told him the whole story we already know without ever mentioning the name "Post Left". Nazi heard everything and calmed down as the story progressed, seeming like a completely different person: the twisted expression of rage disappeared and was now replaced with a serene and serious one that made the fascist look similar to those roman statues of marble. 

"So let me get this straight: you found a stabbed person, brought them home, paid for their treatment, and they are now staying in your house to recover?"

"Pretty much."

"And you don't know them?" 

"No" AnCap said, with a mysterious smile.

Nazi was perplexed to say the least. 

"Forgive me, AnCap, but this doesn't sound like you at all, you're lying to me!"

"I'm not! What can I say, I felt pity for the poor guy, I couldn't just ignore them, I'm a person too."

Nazi still doubted the truth of what AnCap was saying and asked him: 

"What's their name?"

AnCap looked down, and with an affectionate and tender tone replied: 

"Post Left."

"Ah. They're an anarchist?"

"Yes." 

"I knew it, of course they had to have something in common with you for you to help them…" 

AnCap ignored this provocation and broke eye contact with Nazi, with an annoyed expression. 

"Oh well, I guess you're right, it was kind of ridiculous for me to do all this mess because of a random person. I bet Commie heard us and is probably so confused by now."

AnCap palled. His heart started racing, and his blood ran cold like the sweat he was cleaning in his forehead. AnCap grabbed Nazi's hand and with a seriousness that scared the fascist from how unexpected it was told him: 

"Nazi, promise you won't tell this to anyone. And I mean, for serious, anyone, especially Commie. Promise me!" 

Nazi was taken aback by this reaction and was more confused than ever. But besides being surprised with the capitalist's request, he was somehow offended with this attitude - who did AnCap think he was to give him orders? What kind of authority did he think he had? 

"Why?" 

AnCap's expression started to change from pure anxiety to anger. 

"Nazi, I'm begging you, don't tell this to anyone, you hear me?"

Nazi's indignation reached its peak, and he stood up freeing his arm from AnCap aggressively: 

"But who do you think you are to tell me what to do, AnCap?! There is literally no reason for me not to tell this to anyone, and to Commie much less, since he's staying in your house and, just like me, has all the right to know this. If I want to tell him this, nothing will stop me."

AnCap stood up after Nazi finished speaking and approached the fascist, with a weird smile in his face, almost as if he was already expecting Nazi to say this, and had an answer planned ahead. 

"Nothing, Nazi, are you sure?" AnCap asked, with a mocking and ironic tone. "Why are you so confident? Does Commie already know about what you did to him and to AnCom?"

Nazi's jaw dropped and he felt the color drain from his face. He fell on the bed, trembling while staring at AnCap in shock and in fear. 

"Didn't think so." AnCap said as he saw Nazi quiver with fear with these words. "And I truly think Commie would be very angry at you if he found out that everything you told him about AnCom was made up, and the lies you invented were just to make them split up so you could have him all to yourself, wouldn't he?!" 

Nazi buried his face in his hands while he heard the capitalist speak, and once he finished, he screamed: 

"Shut up, AnCap, shut up! You know exactly why I did it, why I HAD to do it, you don't understand how much it hurt me to see those two together!" 

AnCap looked at him with seriousness and harshness. 

"You think I don't, Nazi?! Have you totally forgotten about who I am? You knew their relationship was falling apart, you knew AnCom was this close to breaking up with Commie. Their love was condemned to death and already dying, but you gave it the final blow." 

Nazi was more agitated than ever - he stood up, and walked frenetically from side to side: 

"I had to do it, I had to, I couldn't resist. I never realized how much it would hurt Commie… I… my God, I... I'm sorry."

AnCap stared at Nazi and didn't seem to have a single ounce of pity or mercy for him. 

"Commie doesn't know that everything you told him about AnCom cheating on him with me was a lie, does he?"

Nazi let out a muffled scream and AnCap swore he would break into crying, but he didn't. The capitalist had the answer he seeked in the fascist's silence and with a mixture of judgement and disappointment he shook his head. 

"If you tell Commie about this, I'll tell him everything, Nazi. I promise you that I will. And I'm sure he'll never forgive you."

Nazi was absolutely defeated by AnCap once again. Nazi wouldn't tell Commie anything, his secret would be safe, and his relationship with the communist as well. Now that he thought about it, it was a pretty fair and just deal. 

"I won't tell him anything, I promise." he said, with his voice shaking. 

"Very well, very wise decision, statist." AnCap replied, gleaming with victory and glory. He stretched his hand to his fellow rightist and Nazi did the same, and they sealed the handshake, sealing the deal. "Now, I've got to go. I am arranged to have dinner with Libertarian in 30 minutes, and I'm already late. If you want anything, you have the kitchen and my maid, so just ask. See you soon, Nazi!"

AnCap forgot that the door was locked and once he arrived there, he turned around and tilting his head said: 

"The door, please."

Nazi grabbed the key and opened the door, opening it so that AnCap could get out. The capitalist left with pride and satisfaction all over his face, and walked as confidently and as victorious as one of Homer's greek heroes. Nazi closed the door as soon as AnCap left and in a fit of anger he hit the door and screamed with frustration and anger. 

AnCap was in the hallway, heard the scream and couldn't help to let out a big smile that lit up his face. After a while, he didn't hear anything from Nazi's bedroom at all and felt relieved. He was about to turn around and leave, when he started hearing Commie in his room, visibly agitated. AnCap worried for a bit, but then thought it was because of the spectacle he and Nazi gave, and decided to ignore it. He left the house shrugging his shoulders, and let the two authoritarians by themselves. 

By doing this, AnCap made, however, a big and terrible mistake that he would later deeply regret.


	13. Commie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: The abbusive shit starts hitting now, so please if you're not comfortable with it dont read! (Next chapter's gonna be even worse but this one already points to it)
> 
> I admire everyone who actually is up to continue on reading this work, i hope yall enjoy it 
> 
> Centricide will end in a few days and I am honestly super excited for the finale nhhgggg. Hope yall stick to this fic even after it ends, not that it is too far from ending, but I might not be able to finish this before centricide 8 comes out so yeah
> 
> Welp good read <333

Commie really tried. He really did, but it was useless - he couldn't stop thinking about them. It had already been a month since AnCom left him and he still hadn't forgotten the anarchist, he still hadn't stopped hurting, he still hadn't stopped missing qem. He missed everything AnCom gave him - the hugs, the kisses, qis bubbly laughs, qis warm and soft touch, qis energy, qis green vivid eyes, everything! He wished he could just turn back time and relive all the moments they both shared, when he would read theory to the anarchist with qe falling asleep on his shoulder, when they would do all sorts of pranks to Nazi and laugh about it for hours, when he would teach some russian to AnCom and call them by loving nicknames, when they would just be together holding hands or hugging,... He missed being loved like that, he missed giving his love, he missed being happy. 

Why did AnCom leave him like that? Qe was so unfair, so selfish, so heartless in leaving the person qe used to love, all alone, with two rightists! And, to make matters worse, right after Nazi told him that AnCom and AnCap were both in love with each other. Qe never said this was true, but never said it was a lie either. Although Commie believed that AnCom didn't cheat on him, the fact that he demanded an explanation and pretended to believe so was enough to end their relationship, which was already falling apart. 

Commie didn't exactly know why their relationship crumbled. He told himself that it was AnCom's fault - that anarchist was so emotionally unstable, and he sometimes just couldn't take it. In those times, he lost all his patience and would snap at them, but what else could he do? He wasn't perfect, and AnCom owed him so much, so if anything, qe should forgive him! Especially because the horrible things Commie told qem were somehow also qis fault for angering him! No, he wasn't to blame for all of this…

But thinking like this made the communist feel like he was tricking himself, in order to soften the pain and avoid the guilt. He felt like he was lying to himself. AnCom could have angered him, but he had no right to tell qem all those horrible things, he had no right to threaten qem, he had no right to be so cruel. It was in the moments when he realized this that he started crying and cursing himself for the awful way he treated the poor anarchist. To comfort himself, he would say that their relationship was doomed from the beginning - a statist and an anarchist could never be together, and history confirmed Commie's opinion - communists betrayed anarchists so many times in the past, why would this time be any different? But instead of feeling better with these thoughts, they just made him even sadder, and he started to cry more than before. He loved AnCom so much, he adored qem, he would die and kill for qem, and yet he was so cruel to the anarchist; there were moments when he hated AnCom almost as much as he loved qem, and he often wondered how such contradictory and opposite feelings could mix so well. 

Nazi kept trying to cheer him up, he tried to fullfill the empty spot that AnCom left, but he didn't succeed. There was no way he could. AnCom was one of a kind to Commie, and, therefore, irreplaceable; no matter how much Nazi tried, he couldn't do what AnCom did, and couldn't love Commie the same way AnCom had. This made the communist feel a sort of pity for the rightist; Nazi knew Commie would never love him as passionately and as much as he once loved AnCom, and the leftist knew very well that Nazi was aware of this and was sure he wasn't completely indifferent to it. He felt like it was all his fault for making not only AnCom suffer but now Nazi as well. He was to blame for the misery of the two people he loved the most and he hated himself for that. 

These were the thoughts that bothered Commie when AnCap opened the door and invited them in. He noticed AnCap staring at him through his sunglasses and took the chance to look at him when his gaze moved to Nazi. It was undeniable that the capitalist was more beautiful and brighter than ever - the time he spent without them was without a doubt highly beneficial to him. Even if he hated AnCap with all his might, he still was slightly happy for him and for his success.

AnCap showed them the whole house, and Commie paid enough attention to get all its superficial details. The last thing they were presented to was their rooms, one in front of the other. Commie laid his back on the wall and listened to AnCap for about the first two minutes he spoke and then started to think about the same things he had been thinking about before. Seeing AnCap again reminded him so much of the happy and distant past he spent together with AnCom, and eventually all the memories, alongside with the strong emotions attached to them, emerged. 

AnCap saw Commie’s troubled and sad expression, and his reddish brown eyes gleaming with tears.  Right after, he grabbed Nazi by the hand and went to talk to him, as we already know. When Commie came back to his senses, he noticed he was all alone, and heard Nazi and AnCap whisper. He went to them, and on the way noticed the stairs that lead to the basement, the ones AnCap had apparently decided to ignore on the presentation. Commie didn't even notice them the first time he passed in that place. Normally, the communist would have just ignored them and gone his way - and he was just about to do that, but something stopped him. He didn't know why, but his heart told him that those stairs led to and hid more than what it seemed. 

With a slight hesitation, he started to walk down the stairs with his heart almost jumping out of his chest. The stairs led to a sort of basement, an underground division with a big free space and a door that led to another room. Commie started to approach that door, and his heart was beating much faster than before; he could hear it pumping in his ears, and felt the blood in his veins turning warmer and burning his cheeks. 

When he finally arrived at the door, he stopped to listen. There was nothing but silence. Moments after, he heard the sound of someone dragging a chair and small, rapid steps becoming louder and louder. 

There was a person in there! Commie paled and his knees were trembling but he still managed to crouch and peek through the keyhole. He didn't see anything. With trembling hands, he reached for the doormat and tried to open it - it was locked. Commie didn't try to open it once more. Pale and almost out of air, he ran up the stairs and breathed in and out, trying to calm down. Minutes later, he went to see the two rightists, and heard them talking with each other, clearly about him. 

_ “Well, have you tried talking to your boyfriend about this?” _

_ "He’s not my boyfriend! And of course I haven’t, he doesn’t want to talk about it, and can barely hear the name ‘AnCom’ without having an emotional crisis. It’s almost as if the anarchist is dead.” _

Hearing Nazi speak about him like this made Commie blush from sheer shame, and he bit his lip almost making it bleed. He was such a burden, a failure, he had become miserable and a shadow of what he once was.

_ “Shhh, he might hear us! Whatever suits you, Nazi. And well, AnCom technically is dead to Commie, didn’t they leave him? That’s called a psychological death, and it might hurt as much as a physical one. But haven’t you been helping him with this?” _

Commie heard AnCap, astonished with his confidence and audacity. He semmed to be defending him from Nazi's attacks, and it was like he felt compassion for him, like he understood his pain. How was he able to do this? Was he also hurt? 

_ “I understand. It’s not like psychological support is really your strength.” _

Hearing this made Commie somehow feel relieved. As much as he hated to admit it, AnCap was right - a big part of the insufferable pain he felt was due to Nazi's lack of emotional support and his downright dismissal of every manifestation of suffering he let out. At the same time, it was true that Nazi wasn't exactly the ideal person to help him get through a heartbreak, but that didn't really excuse his attittude. 

_ “May I go to my room, now?!” _

Commie noticed that AnCap had touched a sore spot, judging by Nazi's angry reaction. Perhaps Nazi really felt bad about his dismissive and negligent actions when it came to Commie's suffering; and perhaps he did regret it, and wanted to be better… for him. Commie smiled with contempt and affection, and his cheeks were now pinkish. Nazi really did love him.

_ “But of course, as you wish. Have a nice stay.” _

Commie saw Nazi storming off to his room without noticing him. He saw the rightist close the door with a loud bang, and went to AnCap. 

"Where is Nazi?" he asked, as calmly as he could.

"He felt tired and went to his room to rest a bit." AnCap replied, without looking at him. "Here, have your keys if you want to go to your room as well."

Commie took the keys and left the capitalist alone, heading to his room. Once he entered it, he fell into the bed, completely exhausted. He buried his face in one of the pillows and tried to take a nap. At least when he was asleep he couldn't feel anything, since it was very rare for him to dream at all. 

He shut his eyes tight, and tried to fall asleep, but after half an hour of just laying there, moving from a side to the other, and barely making any progress, he realized it would be impossible for him to sleep right there and then. Everytime he closed his eyes he started to remember the whole basement scene - the noises he heard just kept repeating in his head, over and over. For brief moments he thought he was crazy and delusional. He believed that all he heard were just illusions and that he was hallucinating; then, he tried to explain the noises rationally: something fell on the upper floor, or it was just some rats, who knows? All that mattered was that he shouldn't jump to big conclusions like he had. 

There was no one in there, he didn't need to worry… He knew AnCap was not exactly moral, but he wouldn't have the courage to kidnap a person; also, if this was the case, wouldn't they have screamed for help, or, if they weren't able to do so, make more noise to warn him that there was someone stuck in there? The steps he heard were so light and rapid... if there was really someone in there, it sounded more like they were hiding and running away from him. 

But those steps… those steps sounded so familiar to Commie. He could swear he had heard them before! And if he had, where? When? And what would he do if he could answer these questions? Would he try to open the door and see who was inside? Would he confront AnCap? 

All these questions popped in his mind with a vivacity and speed that were too much for him to handle. The idea of going to that basement again to get a clearer idea of what was going on seemed so appealing and tempting to him. Curiosity was killing him inside and he was burning with the desire to unveil all the mysteries that door held. He was about to leave the room with an impulse, when a voice on the back of his mind spoke. It was a voice of reason, a glimpse of the old, reasonable and wise Commie. 

It was a horrible idea to go there now. AnCap could probably catch him, question him, and make a whole scene that surely would attract Nazi’s attention, and that was what he wanted to avoid at all costs. Besides, what would he do once he got there? What if the door was locked again? Would he try to take the door down? What if AnCap heard him?

No. If he wanted to get in that room and see what was in there, he’d have to be careful and smart. First, he needed to confirm if there was really someone in there; if there was, AnCap would visit them sooner or later. Secondly, there was the question of the locked door - he had to put his hands on the keys of that door, which wouldn’t be hard to recognize, since AnCap probably kept that key away from the others, like he had done for him and Nazi. The hard part was to take it from AnCap, but the communist would eventually be able to do it; it wasn’t the first time he stole something from the capitalist anyways. 

He sat on a chair by the window, grabbed one of the books he brought with him and started reading to distract himself. He had to be patient, he had to wait. He could barely focus on anything the book told him, and instead paid particular attention to every noise he heard outside his room. 

An hour passed, and nothing had happened; he was starting to become frustrated. He closed the book violently and stood up, glaring at the door - the urges to go to that room right there and then were becoming stronger and stronger, and the voice of reason he heard before started to drown over screams of anguish and curiosity. 

Suddenly, he heard someone walking in the hallway. He rushed to the door, opened a small fringe of it, and tried to see who it was. It was AnCap, rushing down the same stairs the communist had walked in before! He wasn’t insane, there really was someone in that secret room! A few seconds after seeing AnCap, he heard Nazi’s door open and the fascist getting out of there pale and shaking immensely. He almost panicked - he thought the rightist was not feeling well and would faint in a couple of seconds. But that didn’t happen at all: he saw the rightist’s face adquire a confused and intriguing expression, and his eyes looking at that fatal staircase. 

“Nazi is going after him…” he whispered, with a bright smile.

As he finished saying this, he observed Nazi heading to the stairs and hiding himself in the wall adjacent to it, so AnCap couldn’t see him when he walked up again. 

‘Smart move’ the communist thought, glad that all the waiting was finally worth it. 

Nazi tried to peek and see who AnCap was talking to, and for brief moments Commie wished to be in his place. He heard AnCap walking up the stairs, and saw Nazi enter his room again, leaving the door opened. 

“Poor AnCap…” he muttered without holding back a short grin. “This is going to be fun!”

Moments later, AnCap was dragged into the fascist’s room and he heard the door shut and the sound of the keys in the door lock. They were locked in. Commie had the perfect chance now to fulfill his curiosity! He opened the rest of the door, and silently headed to the fascist’s room, standing outside, right at the door. 

_ "AnCap, what are you hiding from me?" _

Silence. Commie’s heart started beating hysterically, and his eyes widened. He was dying to know everything, he was expecting to hear AnCap’s voice break that horrible silence and spit out the whole truth. 

_ "Answer me!" _

Nazi appeared to feel the same devastating eagerness to find out what AnCap was hiding as him. There was silence again. Commie thought he’d hear something break, sounds of Nazi hitting AnCap and the capitalist growling of pain. He knew very well and from terrifying past experiences how Nazi was when they tested his patience like this. But the fascist didn’t do anything; instead of fighting, he heard laughing.  _ AnCap _ laughing. The capitalist wasn’t afraid to face Nazi anymore and this surprised him immensely. 

_ "Have you gone completely insane?! I find out you have someone hidden in your house and you just straight up laugh at me?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!"  _

The communist found interesting how his emotions were almost completely aligned with Nazi’s and smiled.

_ "I'm sorry, Nazi, but I just find this absolutely ridiculous. I have you as guests in MY house, and you lock me in your room, wanting to force me to tell you what I do or don't do in it. Isn't that the stupidest thing ever? Doesn't that sound absurd to you, my fellow rightist?" _

AnCap had that obnoxious and sarcastic tone that Commie absolutely despised. His nose scrunched in annoyance, and he pressed his eyebrows together. He forgot how much the capitalist angered him when he acted like this. 

_"But making such a big fuss about this means you must really want to know what secrets I keep in my basement, aren't I right? Very well, then I'll tell you._ _No, Nazi, I won't ask anything in return, I'm not that much of a jackass."_

‘Well well well, this was easier than what I expected!’ Commie thought, overjoyed. 

He heard the whole story, as attentively as Nazi, and mayhaps better than him, even with the distance and the closed door as obstacles. 

_ "So let me get this straight: you found a stabbed person, brought them home, paid for their treatment, and they are now staying in your house to recover?" _

_ "Pretty much." _

_ "And you don't know them?"  _

_ "No" _

After hearing this, the communist was somehow disappointed. At the end of the day, AnCap was only trying to be kind to a person who needed help, and just made a good and selfless action, there was no need for his panic at all. He was starting to calm down and a weight lifting of his shoulders, when he heard the two rightists continuing the conversation:

_ "Forgive me, AnCap, but this doesn't sound like you at all, you're lying to me!" _

_ "I'm not! What can I say, I felt pity for the poor guy, I couldn't just ignore them, I'm a person too." _

_ "What's their name?" _

Commie was so caught up in the story that he didn’t notice that AnCap never mentioned the name of the person he helped. With his face touching the door, and his heart racing again, he waited for what seemed like an eternity for the capitalist’s answer.

_ "Post Left." _

Commie felt like someone punched him in the stomach and his heart stopped. He backed away from the door, trembling and with his face paler than the white walls. He fell on the ground on his knees and with his hands covered his mouth, muffling a scream of shock and anguish. He stood up and ran to his room, closing the door with shaking hands. 

“It can’t be… It can’t be.” he repeated while crying and walking back and forth in that room. “It’s really you, AnCom, it’s you! Ah, the universe really works in mysterious ways, it brings us together even when we are apart! It’s fate, it’s meant to be!”

The communist didn’t know if he was crying from happiness, or from gratitude, or from remembering AnCom, or from the discovery he just made. Maybe it was because of all of them, maybe it was because of the shock, he didn't know and it didn’t matter anymore. He was so, so close to AnCom again, there were only those hateful stairs and a locked door keeping them apart… He just had to get through the door, see AnCom, and take them with him. He didn’t care about Nazi, or AnCap, or centricide, he just wanted to be with the goddamn anarchist! He barely had any control over his emotions anymore, and felt like he was losing his sanity, but he didn’t care; now that he knew this, there was no turning back - he needed to see AnCom, talk to qem, even if it was the last thing he did.

The day AnCom broke up with him and left the extremists came to his mind. He remembered particularly a letter qe wrote him and left in his room, only for him. He read that piece of paper stained with his tears hundreds of times, and he remembered every line of it, including the name with which AnCom signed it - it wasn’t “AnCom” and it wasn’t “Jay”, it was “Post Left”. He knew “Post Left” was the name AnCom used to designate qis new identity, the name that allowed qem to run away from the extremists and from qis past.

“It’s you, my annarkiddy, it’s you!” he said, sobbing and smiling through his tears. “I’ll finally see you again…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 chapters to go, i'll miss writing this work T~T


	14. The leftists

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW if you havent seen the tags: THIS CHAPTER DEALS WITH VERY ABUSIVE BEHAVIOUR, PLEASE DONT READ IT IF YOU DONT FEEL COMFORTABLE
> 
> yall this is the climax, i'm almost ending this and I couldn't feel happier with how it turned out. Sure I hate some parts but fuck off, i'll work on them when i write more stuff

Commie heard the door shut. AnCap had left. Now it was only him, Nazi and, of course, AnCom in the basement. AnCap had probably taken the keys with him so he had to wait for him to come back. There was no other way. 

He lied on his bed, staring at the ceiling, and with his mind racing. The consequences of his new discovery started to appear in his mind vividly and one after the other. According to AnCap, AnCom, or rather, Post Left, was stabbed and probably almost died. Just the thought of AnCom almost dying and realizing he was helpless to do anything filled him with sheer affliction. Thank God AnCap saved him, healed him and treated him! But then he thought - this attitude of the capitalist seemed extremely suspicious to him. Why would AnCap help someone he, supposedly, did not know? Just like Nazi commented, it didn't sound like him at all. Then a strange and horrible realization hit him - what if AnCap did know who Post Left was all along, what if he recognized AnCom, and did all of this because he discovered Postie's true identity? 

A strange and unexpected jealousy started to possess him. He wondered what AnCap and AnCom had been doing in this house, the two of them all alone, by themselves. He could see it all - AnCap taking care of the anarchist, while gently meddling with qis hair, the snuggles he gave qem, them sleeping together side by side, qe giving the capitalist qis sweet and soft kisses and qis tight and warm hugs… He saw himself in the loving memories he had with AnCom be replaced with AnCap, and his heart ached every time his brain did this. Jealousy quickly turned into rage and before he knew it he wasn't able to continue lying in his bed and started to walk back and forth in his room. 

The two hours he waited for AnCap to arrive were the most insufferable of his life. He stood up and sitted down intermittently, with terrible and recurrent mood swings and with an indescribable anguish that made him febrile. For moments he had to suppress the emerging and strong urges that whispered in his ears to kill AnCap and take AnCom from him for forever. The few traces of reasonableness still left in him stopped him from doing this, so he just despaired as he waited for the sound of keys unlocking the front door, and AnCap’s footsteps announcing him coming in. If he waited a second longer, he thought he’d go completely insane. 

While he endured this wait desperately, the communist decided to leave his room and catch some air, maybe it would help him. He went to the living room running, and went near the big window that showed him the outside. The rain had stopped a long time ago, but some dark grey clouds announced it was about to rain again soon. The wind blew and whirled through the streets filled with color and light. Looking at Ancapistan made Commie sick, everything he despised in capitalism was physically demonstrated there - its superficiality, its hypnotising essence, its capacity to attract and mesmerize, its brilliant capacity to hide the amount of blood, sweat and exhausting work put into something through vivid colors and blinding lights, its capacity to fool and to deceive. These reflections made Commie think about his situation again - he was sure AnCap had somehow tricked AnCom from the beginning; he pretended to not know who qe was only to gain qis affection, and conquer the anarchist’s heart like he always clearly wanted. 

Perhaps, Nazi was indeed telling him the truth when he said AnCap and AnCom were considering to be together. After all, AnCom wouldn’t be that naïve to fall for a lie like this, and if he did fall, it was because qe wanted to. Did… did AnCom want to be loved by that horrible capitalist? The communist started to blush with the fury and the jealousy when he asked himself this question. He really had to save AnCom from AnCap and make him come back to qis senses. 

He turned his back on the window, and wandered around the entire mansion, admiring its luxury and beauty. Seeing how wonderful that house was didn’t really cheer him up or astonish him at all, instead it just made him angrier and sadder. Not only did AnCap steal from his workers part of their well deserved salary to waste on all these riches, he also dared to steal AnCom from him. Commie never thought he could hate someone that much. 

At the end of his short trip, he headed to his room and saw Nazi’s room with the door closed. He approached it almost as silently and as nimbly as he had when he overheard the rightist’s conversation, so simple and banal, but managed to change so much in such a short time!... The communist reached for the doormat; the door was unlocked, and he came in, trying to not make any noise. Nazi was already fast asleep, resting serenely and peacefully, like an angel.

‘The calm before the storm’ Commie thought as he stared at the rightist, with a small pity. 

He was really going to leave Nazi behind… He had to. It was him or AnCom, and Commie had no doubt over which one to choose. 

“I’m sorry…” he whispered, feeling more guilty than ever. “I’m so sorry, Nazi…”

Without saying anything else, he left. What more was there to say? He couldn’t face Nazi ever again, but it was a sacrifice that he had to do to be with the anarchist. Inside, he wished that things had turned out differently, and that he wasn’t obliged to ditch one of them to get the other. But it was clear that this was the only way. 

He headed to his room devastated, and with his heart weighing more than a ton of bricks. As he closed the door, he heard the front door open and AnCap entering the house. It was finally time!

AnCap heard Commie’s door close, and palled. A bad feeling built up in his gut and he was suddenly scared of something he couldn’t predict, and this is the worst type of fear one can feel. He put the keys on the table without reflecting and headed to the hallway where the rooms of the authoritarian both were. He stopped by Commie’s door; the lights were off and it was dead silent. He sighed with relief. 

‘I’m becoming paranoid! Those two are making me lose my mind…’ the capitalist thought as he passed right by the stairs that led to Postie’s room. 

A voice inside advised him to not go to bed yet; to stay a little more in the living room and keep an eye on the authoritarians, just to be sure nothing would happen. AnCap wasn’t at all delighted with this idea, he wanted to go to sleep; he hadn’t slept in hours, but he was going to do it anyway. In his room, he prepared himself to sleep, and then went to the living room again. Commie did the same, and heard AnCap go to the living room again. 

The capitalist sat on the couch, and started to go through his phone to keep him from falling asleep. But he couldn't resist for more than half an hour, his body was exhausted from not sleeping the night before, and when he least expected he fell into a profound and serene sleep. 

Commie didn't even hesitate - he didn't hear anything but silence from the living room AnCap was in, and saw the perfect moment to attack. He saw the keys resting on the small table near the front door, and took all of them. A small one caught his attention; that was the one he'd try first when he arrived to that room. He rushed to the stairs with extreme care to not wake any of the rightists up, and with his heart beating faster and faster each step he took. He reached to the door,grabbed the small key, and it fit. He spinned it, and to his surprise he heard the door unlock. He opened it gently, but something closed it again roughly. It was Postie, holding the door with all qis strenght. 

Postie was on the verge of tears and filled with a horrible panic as qe held the door. Qe wanted to think this was just a nightmare and that qe would wake up at any moment. But qe knew this wouldn't happen at all, it wasn't a dream, it was really happening. 

"Go away" the anarchist muttered repeatedly through the door. 

"AnCom!..." Postie shivered while hearing this deep and soft voice with a slight russian accent calling qem that name. "AnCom, calm down, it's just me!..."

"Oh, I know!" Postie said, trembling as qe used all qis strenght to keep Commie from entering. 

Commie was taken aback by this answer. With the shock, he used a bit more of strenght than before and managed to open the door. He put his left hand on it to keep it from closing again, and got in easily. Postie backed away from him and went to the opposite side of the room. Commie shut the door gently to avoid waking up the rightists, and with the keys locked it to make sure none of them got in. Postie couldn't really process what was going on anymore and just stared at him, without reaction, and petrified. 

"We finally meet again, AnCom…"

The anarchist wanted to scream, but qe realized that the sound of qe screaming would probably wake Nazi up, and this scared qem more than qe already was, so the scream just died in qis throat. 

"Don't call me that." qe replied with qis voice trembling. 

"Why not?" the communist smiled with a strange calm and tenderness that instead of calming Postie down just made qem more anxious. "You're still AnCom for me…"

"I'm not AnCom anymore, Commie. AnCom died for you and for the world, AnCom is dead and you killed them."

Commie couldn't contain a strong feeling of outrage and lost the smile he had. 

"Fine, we'll do this the hard way then. You want to throw accusations at me?!"

"They're not accusations, they're the harsh truth. And you know this very well, I know how guilty you feel, Commie… But if you think I'll come back to you to simply make you feel better, you're wrong."

The communist was surprised with the anarchist’s indifferent and harsh tone. AnCom never talked back to him like this, qe would never have been capable of reacting with such coldness to his anger!...

“AnCom, what happened to you? You’re being so cold and harsh to me! Do I matter that little to you?” 

While hearing this, Postie’s face turned from fear to anger, and Commie backed away as he noticed that he touched a sensitive spot in the anarchist’s soul.

“Don’t you guilt trip me, you damned communist! Don’t you even dare!” qe almost shouted while walking towards Commie with qis finger pointed at Commie’s chest. “Do you have any idea of the suffering you caused me?! Do you know how much I cried  _ for _ you, _ because _ of you?!” 

Commie didn’t know how to react to this. He just stood there staring at the enraged anarchist, observing the rage starting to turn into sadness and qis eyes becoming filled with tears that started falling two by two. 

“If I am like this now, if I have become this, it’s because of all you’ve done to me, because of all the emotional torture you’ve put me through!” Postie was short of air and started sobbing uncontrollably. “You did this to me, Commie! It was you, you,  _ you _ . You only have yourself to blame, Tankie!”

The communist heard every word of what Postie was telling him and his blood rushed to his cheeks. He didn’t know if he was blushing from shame or from the anger coming from hearing the anarchist accuse him with such bravery and audacity. That last “Tankie” drove him to the edge; just like in many other occasions, he lost his cool and shouted back:

“But who do you think you are to tell me all of this, AnCom?! You’re trying to blame me for a decision you made by yourself?! You left everyone, you were incredibly selfish and ungrateful to all of us, and you’re putting the blame of being like this in me?! You clearly have no idea of what you’re saying!”

Postie just stared at him with those green shiny eyes, still crying but this time silently. The anarchist wasn’t showing any sort of reaction besides those tears that kept falling and falling. Qe thought for a moment about what Commie just said, and realized he was right. Just like qe realized days ago, qe had been incredibly selfish in leaving the extremists behind, especially AnCap, and was now starting to drown in guilt and regret. Even if the communist couldn’t read Postie’s expression, the silence that qe left as a response to what he said was already enough to sense the effect his words were having.

“I don’t know if you tell this to yourself to make you feel better, AnCom, but just know that you’re lying to yourself. You took and chose this path, if anything, the solitude and the state that you emerged yourself in are the ultimate consequences of your decisions! But what can I say, I'm not at all surprised. You always liked to blame everything that went wrong in your life on someone else!” 

Postie sat on the bed defeated, and buried qis face on qis hands. Commie thought qe was crying, but didn’t hear them sob. 

‘Maybe I went too far…’ he thought, almost feeling guilty. He sat on the bed by Postie’s side, and put his hand on their shoulder, while muttering:

“AnCom, look at me.” 

Postie dropped qis hands but still didn’t look at Commie, keeping qis gaze directed to the ground. Commie saw those beautiful green eyes again, those adorable freckles that rested now on pinkish cheeks, that beautiful black wavy hair, with some curls resting on qis forehead, and his heart melted. How he missed seeing AnCom and qis cuteness!...

“AnCom, listen, let’s get away from here.”

Postie turned to him and stared right at the communist in shock:

“Get away?! What do you mean?”

Commie smiled and took qis hands gently.

“Let’s run away! We’ll leave the rightists for good, and be together, just the two of us, abandon the centricide and create a leftist revolution if we want to!...”

The anarchist’s eyes widened as qe heard Commie speak, and qe took qis hands from Commie’s. Qe tried to see if the communist was joking or not, but something told qem he wasn’t. Still, qe couldn’t help to find his intentions ridiculous and somewhat funny, so qe started laughing hysterically:

“Ah! Ah! A leftist revolution, really, Tankie?!” Postie was almost running out of air from laughing too hard. “And what are you going to do after we're done, shoot me?! You’ve gone completely mad!” 

Commie wasn’t at all expecting this reaction, and stared at the anarchist dumbfounded. Seeing Postie laugh at him in his face reminded him of the scene he heard hours ago, when AnCap laughed in the same mocking way at Nazi. Suddenly, he remembered all the jealous thoughts that came to his mind not long ago, and seeing Postie have the same sort of attitude as that goddamn capitalist angered him more than it disappointed him. Enraged, he grabbed Postie's arm and told qem: 

"I don't know what has gotten into you, AnCom! I really don't. First, you abandon our team, second, I find you here, hidden in that traitor's house and finally, when I propose for us to leave all of this behind, you refuse and mock me?!" Postie palled with fear while qe witnessed this reaction. Qe tried to release qis arm multiple times, but the communist was stronger and refused to let qem go. "What have you been doing here, in this house, AnCom? What are your intentions with AnCap? Do you plan on staying here with him forever? Do you…" 

The communist hesitated for moments. With the pain he felt in his heart showcasing in his voice, asked: 

"Do you love him? Do you love AnCap?"

Postie waited for the communist to finish to beg for him to let them go. Their arm was hurting from Commie's excessive strenght and qe was trying harder and harder to free qimself. With a dying scream, qe said: 

"Let me go!"

Commie looked at qem with his eyes filled with rage, disappointment and hurt. He released the anarchist, and qe stood up going to the nearest wall to back away from the leftist. The communist stood up right after and when Postie was busy taking care of qis arm, he pinned qem to the wall, cornering them.

"Answer me! Was Nazi really lying to me?!"

Postie started to remember all qis past memories from discussions with Commie, and all the terrifying moments when he lost his cool, but none were as serious and as horrifying as this one. Postie didn't know what to do - they didn't want to hurt him, but they didn't want to be hurt either.

"Commie" qe called out, with a small squeak and the panic showcasing in qis voice. "Don't do something you'll regret..."

The communist heard these words and his rage didn't disappear; instead, it just got worse. He punched the wall with a fit of uncontrolled rage and the anarchist retracted with a panic. He grabbed Postie by qis shirt and pushed qem to the other side of the room with a strength not too intense to make qem fall and hurt qimself, but enough to scare the anarchist to death. 

"Tell me." he said while looking at the wall, and not Postie. "Do you love AnCap?"

Postie started sobbing, covering qis face. The communist didn't dare to look at them. 

"I do…" qe replied with qis voice breaking through qis tears and sobs. 

Commie was devastated, but his anger still fueled him, and when he thought he didn't have enough energy to carry on, he was still able to tell qem: 

"You've completely lost it, AnCom. You're right, I don't recognize you anymore, you're not AnCom. The AnCom I knew wouldn't ever love a capitalist in their life, never. But here you are - admitting to love AnCap!... A leftist loving a rightist, especially a capitalist! You embarrass me."

Postie wiped the tears that still fell, and looked at Commie. He thought qe was clueless about his relationship with Nazi. Qis face lit up with an ironic and sad smile and qe replied, with sheer anger and disdain: 

"But it's okay if it's a literal nazi, isn't it, Commie?!" Commie's jaw dropped and he paled while staring at the anarchist. "I know about you and Nazi. Always knew that fash was head over heels for you! Do you think I am or was stupid enough to believe you wouldn't be with Nazi after I left?! That you wouldn't go running immediately to his arms to cry for your former anarchist lover?! You're such a hypocrite, look at yourself before you judge me!"

The communist had no reply to this; he just glared at Postie's victorious expression as qe noticed the shock and confusion in his face after what he said.

"You have no idea, but no idea of the horrible state you left me in when you abandoned us! You can't understand how much I've suffered for you… You left me with nothing, with no one but Nazi to cling unto!"

"But it was still your choice to cling unto him, wasn't it?!"

Commie's rage skyrocketed when he realized the anarchist was using his own spells against him. In a fit of anger, he headed towards Postie, grabbed qem by both of qis arms and said to them, grinding: 

"Listen to me: you're nothing, nothing without me, AnCom! You never were and never will be! I am all you have, and you always knew this! I have no idea why AnCap or anyone else made you believe the opposite! Look at you without me - you're a mess, all alone, with no one by your side, no one to care for you. You're pathetic, Post Left, you just give me pity!" 

Postie was trembling with every word the communist told them. After a while, Commie's hands that were holding the anarchist's wrists started to shake as well. 

"You're wrong, Commie, that isn't true" qe replied with qis voice shaking as much as qe was. "Why would AnCap save me if he didn't care about me at all?!"

The communist laughed at this, almost as if he was mocking qem. Now it was his turn to laugh at the anarchist's face. 

"AnCap?! You really think AnCap cares for you? I see you're still so childish and so naïve, even as Post Left!..."

Postie paled and was suddenly about to cry again. Qe finally released qis arms from Commie and glared at him, waiting for him to finish. With the same condescending tone the leftist put on everytime the anarchist refuted what he said on a political discussion, he added: 

"My annarkiddy, AnCap has no idea of who you truly are! That's why he helped you and treated you so well! The man has a soft side for doing charity like this sometimes, everyone has a good side, he has his as well. Ah, AnCom, AnCom, you really think if he knew who you were, he'd help you and cherish you like this?! You're delusional! Have you ever stopped to think about what you did to him?!"

With this question, Postie started crying again like before. 

"He hates you, AnCom, I know he does. You left him all alone with Nazi and me; you never thought of anyone but yourself, do you think he'll forgive you for that? Have you got any idea how horribly Nazi treated him because of you? He might not hate you now as Post Left, but that's because he still doesn't know what the mask you use hides!"

Commie was saying the exact same things the horrible voices of guilt in qis head whispered many times in qis ears. Qe couldn't stop crying as qe heard them returning and screaming louder and louder: "He's right". Qe fell to the ground on qis knees while trying to wipe the tears that kept falling through qis cheeks. Why was qe so stupid in thinking AnCap could have loved them somehow?! AnCap liked AnCom; he liked them, not anymore. Now he hated them, he despised them, he only liked qem now because he never realized who qe was. This was the harsh truth; this is what qe feared from the beggining, and the communist was turning that fear into reality as he made it seem so real and so logical!...

Suddenly, qe heard Commie get the keys. He thought the communist was already done; he made the anarchist feel worse than ever and put qem in that afflictive state; qe thought this was enough to satisfy him and waited for him to open the door and leave. This, however, didn't happen. Commie kept staring at qem with his eyes transparenting both rage, sadness and pity. Postie couldn't see him through all the tears, and thought he already left, when qe felt a hand grab qem by the sweatshirt qe was wearing and making qem step up from the ground. 

"Come on, AnCom, let's go." 

Postie started to panic and asked: 

"Go?! But go where?!"

Commie had a dark smile drawn over his face, and with an unusual serenity said: 

"Out of here."

The anarchist didn't think this was funny at all this time and started to fight off the communist for him to release qem: 

"I don't want to go, you idiot! Let me go! I want to stay here! Let me go!"

Qe eventually managed to free qimself and backed away from Commie, with qis face filled of tears and anger.

"You're insane! Just leave me alone for once! I don't want you or your company anymore, what is so hard for you to understand about this?!"

To Commie this was now the last straw. He stood up with the keys, unlocked the door, and before opening it, looked at Postie with a smile filled of restrained anger and said: 

"Very well, AnCom, I see you've decided to go the hard way."

Postie heard the communist, paling as he threatened them. A horrifying guess of what Commie was about to do came to qis mind, and qe started to tremble.

"If I can't have you, then AnCap won't have you either!" 

The anarchist ran to the communist, and tried to grab his arm and eventually managed to do it.

"Commie, please, no…"

The leftist pushed qem and released himself as soon as qe finished speaking. With a terrifying smile in his face, he glared at the terrified anarchist and said: 

"Let's see how AnCap reacts when he finds out about your little secret, Post Left!"

The anarchist fell to qis knees almost as if qe was collapsing, and with qis voice shaking begged him: 

"Commie, please… Don't do this!... Commie, he'll never forgive me!"

The communist's twisted smile was wider than before. 

"Oh, I know…"

"Commie!" Postie screamed as qe saw the communist's hand reach the doormat. "Don't!"

It was too late. The communist opened the door widely, and screamed at the top of his lungs: 

"Nazi! AnCap!" 

Postie felt the blood in qis face drain almost completely. Qis eyes just stared at Commie in disbelief; he really had done this, qe was done for, it was the end. Realizing this made qe feel closer than ever to dying of shame, and, still on qis knees, looked down, with qis chin touching qis chest, qis tears falling to the ground.

AnCap woke up in a startl right after he heard Nazi's name be called from downstairs. His heart started beating faster and while he tried to get up he felt dizzy. Then he heard his name, and it hit him - Commie was the one calling them. He was downstairs, right where he had left Postie. A wave of fear and panic ran through his body; he started trembling, and his blood ran cold.

‘Oh my dead God, he found Postie!’ he thought as he headed out of the living room. He started to feel the regret getting to him; he could have stopped Commie, but fell asleep, and allowed him to steal the keys and get to Postie’s room. ‘I’m such an idiot!’.

He passed through Nazi’s room and saw the lights turn on. He didn’t wait for the fascist, and just headed down those stairs, seeing the door completely open; a strong feeling of guilt and anger shot through him. He started to think of what the communist might have done to Postie, and at every hypothesis that came into his head, his heart ached for his anarchist colleague. The will to stop the communist, to help Postie and redeem himself for all the times he could have done this but didn’t, moved him forward and he arrived at the door faster than what he expected. 

The scene he saw once he got there broke his heart: Commie had a sadistic and twisted expression as he watched Postie hide qis face in qis hands and start to sob. He was reliving all those terrible scenes from months ago and tears started to form in his eyes. 

“Good night, AnCap, glad to see you’re the first to join us!” 

AnCap didn’t even look at the communist as he greeted him; he just stared at Postie and heard them cry a lot more when Commie called his name. 

“You have a lot of explaining to do, to both me and Nazi with this one. You were hiding someone from us while we were here, and never told us anything. You lied to us.”

“I never lied.” AnCap replied, without moving his look from the anarchist.

“But you omitted the truth, which is almost the same thing.” Commie was starting to feel jealous again as AnCap didn’t dare to look at him and instead just kept glaring at Postie. 

“You stole my keys, give them back.”

“Sure, I won’t need them anymore.” he threw them at AnCap and they landed on the ground, right at the capitalist’s feets. “But, my dear friend, I have to say…”

“I’m not your friend.” 

The communist was feeling the rage paint his face red again. He walked towards Postie, violently pushed qem from the ground, and grabbed qis arm. The capitalist couldn’t help to let a teardrop fall as he witnessed Commie humiliate Postie in such a cruel way.

“You weren’t the only one lying, AnCap.” he dragged the anarchist by qis left arm until they both were close enough to AnCap. “Isn’t that right, Post Left? Or should I say: AnCom?”

Postie broke down, crying and sobbing convulsively, as qe desperately tried to avoid any sort of eye contact with the capitalist. If AnCap somehow doubted what Commie had just revealed to him, Postie’s reaction would be more than enough to confirm that the communist was indeed telling the truth. As qe looked down and tears fell in qis face, the anarchist shut down qis eyes and muttered with qis voice breaking: 

“I’m sorry”

AnCap didn’t know how he was still able to hold back his tears. It hurt so much to see Commie do this, to see him treat Postie like this, treat AnCom so terribly and so harshly, being this cruel to them. Witnessing as the face he saw so many times smile and laugh so adorably and so brightly, get replaced with tears, suffering and pain hurted him more than if someone stabbed him with a sharp knife. And all because of Commie, all because of that horrible statist. Without trying to contain both his sadness and his rage, the capitalist said coldly: 

“Commie, let AnCom go.” 

The communist looked at him in shock, and only now seemed to realize that AnCap was crying. It was strange seeing him without his sunglasses, and even stranger seeing him tear up and cry. Within seconds he understood everything - AnCap knew who Postie was all along, and was just pretending to be clueless from the start. AnCap saved Postie because he knew he was saving AnCom; he was kind and good to Postie not because he had a good side and was doing charity, but because Postie was AnCom. This realization made him blush, both from the shame of lying to Postie, and from pure jealousy and hatred. He released the anarchist’s arm, and glared at the capitalist, as he headed to comfort Postie, feeling an indescribable rage - it was all AnCap’s fault, it was because of him that Postie was rejecting him, that Postie knew about his relationship with Nazi, that Postie hated him like qe never had before. It was all his fault. The urge to kill him came back stronger than ever, and he was about attack the capitalist, when he heard a familiar voice say in confusion:

“AnCom?”

It was Nazi. The rightist was pale and speechless. He looked like he saw a ghost, and his jaw dropped as he took a better glance at Postie.

The anarchist heard Nazi’s voice, and saw him looking at qem. This only made qem feel worse. Qe sat on the bed, with qis hands covering qis face while sobbing uncontrollably. Qe was completely defeated and humiliated. 

Commie looked at Nazi and saw those deep blue eyes reach AnCap; then, they reached him, and their gazes met. Nazi was no longer confused or shocked, he had already understood everything. The rightist just stared at him, both disappointed and hurt. The communist guessed all of this and called out:

“Nazi, wait, I…”

The rightist didn’t listen, and left as fast as he could. AnCap managed to take a brief glimpse before the fascist headed out, and for the first time in his life saw a tear roll down his face, that heart of stone break, that soul of ice melt. He could have sworn this man didn’t have any emotions other than calm, disgust and anger, that he couldn't love anything or anyone other than himself and the cause he served. But here was Nazi, crying because of a heartbreak, because of jealousy, because of the betrayal he felt, because of Commie. 

Commie followed Nazi, with his heart aching and weighing more than stones; the guilt had started to get to him. 

AnCap stayed with Post Left in the room where that entire scene had taken place. He sat by qis side, gently took the anarchist’s hands from qis face, and wiped the tears that still hadn’t stopped. He hugged Postie, and kissed qis forehead while telling qem:

“It’s okay, Postie, I'm here…"

The anarchist hugged him back and cried on his chest, while AnCap caressed qem, murmuring: 

"It’s okay, it's okay, AnCom…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lib unity is so underrated >:v


	15. AnCom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALMOST DONEEE 
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this chapter. After the previous one (the climax is always special) it's probably my favorite. I must warn you all tho, that some things will not be explained completely in here. This is part of a bigger work I was planning abt Centricide that I unfortunately still am working on, and will probably never post ^^" So I'm sorry in advance 
> 
> But yeah, everything will still feel like an ending in this fanfic, it's just some details that will be left unexplained. Soooo enjoy, i guess? I hope you like my work :)

Commie followed Nazi running up the stairs and almost tripped while doing so. The weight of the guilt was starting to become unbearable and he could only call out repeatedly: 

"Nazi, please, I can explain…"

The rightist didn't look back and just kept walking. When the communist finally reached him, he grabbed his arm and he stopped. 

"Nazi, please listen to me, let me explain."

"Explain what, Commie?" he had never heard Nazi this hurt before, or ever in his life, and this just made him feel worse. "There's nothing left to say…" 

"Nazi, wait, you know I couldn't resist talking to them, seeing them one more time, one last time!... You know it was stronger than me."

Nazi took his arm off of Commie and turned around, facing him with an empty and hollow look and a strange smile. Commie shivered; he had never seen Nazi like this before and it scared him to death. 

"I'm not stupid, Commie." he told him, with a certain condescendence. "I heard you talking to me when you thought I was sleeping."

The communist felt like a bolt had just struck him. His stomach dropped and he blushed. He couldn't look at Nazi anymore. 

"Back then, I didn't understand why you were apologizing… But knowing what I know now, it all makes perfect sense to me."

The guilt started to turn into tears; Commie tried to stop them from falling but it was useless. Before he knew it he was sobbing just like Postie had been minutes ago. 

"You were going to run away with AnCom, weren't you?" The fascist couldn't feel an ounce of pity for Commie and kept going. "But he refused, isn't that right?" 

Commie tried to answer through his sobs and his tears, as he wiped them with a dark red sleeve.

"What was I supposed to do?!" Nazi stared at him, his eyes piercing his soul, and searching for regret in Commie’s words and emotions. "I was in despair… I  _ am  _ filled with despair, I can't live without them, Nazi… I can't… I... "

The seemingly endless tears didn't let him finish. He continued on crying, and Nazi just stared at him dead silent. Commie waited for him to say anything, to comfort him, to insult him, to lash at him, or to show mercy, but there was nothing; only silence, and Nazi standing right in front of him, emotionless and petrified, like a statue of marble. For him, this was worse and hurt more than any type of bad reaction the fascist could have had. Commie got to his knees and took Nazi's hands, begging as he cried: 

"I'm sorry, Nazi… I'm so sorry, please forgive me, I'll do anything, just… don't leave me… I've already lost so much, I can't afford to lose you as well."

Nazi's emotionless expression changed. He started to feel bad for the communist, and pitied him. Why was his heart giving in when he least wanted it to? Why hadn't he already gotten rid of all his emotions? Why did he still love Commie?

"Get up, Commie." 

The communist obeyed and wiped his tears as he stood up. Nazi glared at him with his eyes filled of pity - he couldn't leave him, no, no, not like this. Even if he needed to, even if he had to, even if it was the only way to keep his dignity intact, he just didn't have the guts to do it. 

"Let's get out of here."

The communist was surprised, and without hiding his astonishment asked:

"Now?"

"Yes. We have been here for too long already."

Commie didn’t want to leave, but was too emotionally weak to argue with Nazi, and could only stutter a hesitant "but…". Nazi heard him and stood his ground, replying almost instantly:

"Commie, please, let's just go. It's the best for all of us and you know it."

The communist looked down, and headed to his room, recognizing that the rightist was indeed right when it came to this whole situation. Nazi watched as he left, and when he saw him close the door, buried his face on his hands, muttering: 

"Why didn't I rip off my heart when I met you, Commie?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, the anarchists were, as we know, in Postie's room, hugging and comforting each other. After a while, Postie backed away from AnCap's chest and wiped the last tears in qis cheeks. Qe still didn't dare to look right at AnCap, and instead just kept looking down. 

"AnCap, I… I can explain everything… I wanted and meant to tell you, and I'm so sorry you had to find out like this."

AnCap stared at qem; qe looked so beautiful when qe wasn't crying… When Postie apologized, he smiled at them with endless tenderness and his heart melted. 

"AnCom… AnCom! Ah, I can finally call you by this name! You don't know how hard I tried to contain myself to not call you this, AnCom…"

AnCom raised qis head and glared at the capitalist in confusion and shock. 

"You… you knew?!" qe asked, in disbelief. 

AnCap nodded, blushing and hiding his face whilst looking down. 

"From day one, Postie… How could I ever forget you, your face or your voice? I heard you call my name in the car, I heard you asking if I had recognized you, asking the reason for why I saved you, and you apologizing. From that day on, I was sure of who you were. I remember talking to you on that beautiful evening when we were together; I can recall everything I told you, everything you said to me, our kiss, everything… I was lying when I said I was too high to remember anything. That day hasn’t left and will never leave my mind!"

Postie didn't know how to react to all of this, it was all too much. Qe just stared at AnCap, reliving all the moments he mentioned. Then, qe saw all of AnCap's actions, words, reactions in a new light, and watched them gain a whole different meaning. With qis heart filled of love and affection, qe hugged him again, whispering: 

"Oh, AnCap…" 

The capitalist hugged qem back, and heard qem once again apologize to him like before. 

"No, no, AnCom, I'm the one who should be sorry. I should have told you everything, that I knew who you were, but I… I couldn’t, I didn’t know how to. Forgive me, I shouldn't have lied to you all this time and…"

The anarchist kissed him before he could finish his sentence. The capitalist felt like he was in heaven; he, that minutes ago could have sworn he was in hell!... Qis kiss was soft and quick, and AnCap just wished it was longer; he loved qem so, so much. 

"You don't have to apologize, AnCap." Postie said, with their foreheads still touching. "You've done so much for me… I was the one who was horrible to you, who left you with Nazi and Commie all alone, who made you suffer… If anything, I should be the one apologizing."

AnCap heard qem speak and his heart bursted with all the love he had been holding back for so long, and that he desperately wanted to give to AnCom. He kissed qis cheeks and qis freckles repeatedly after qe finished speaking, and Postie smiled and laughed in the bubbly and dorky way qe used to. AnCap stopped and admired qem, completely starstruck. 

"I missed your laugh, AnCom…" he whispered, as he kept on kissing qem like before. 

"So did I…" qe commented, still laughing. 

AnCap caressed AnCom in one of qis cheeks, and qe put qis hand on his, staring at him with sadness and passion, and kissing his hand just like AnCap kissed qis cheeks. The anarchist then rested qis head on AnCap's shoulder, and they were silent for a while. 

The capitalist couldn't stop looking at qem, with a thousand questions in his mind that he did not dare to ask. Now that Postie had qis identity revealed, he wanted to know what happened to them, and why they changed their name, why they were hiding from their past, what happened that night he found them. Qe glanced at him with those beautiful green eyes and automatically guessed what AnCap was longing for. Qe could have told him everything right there and then, but didn't want to; qe just wanted to enjoy that peaceful moment and the comfort of being in AnCap's arms; qe wanted him to hold them like this for just a little longer, for just one more minute, before qe had to face all those terrible memories again.

After a few minutes in that warm and loving embrace, Postie let go of AnCap's shoulder raising qis head slowly, and looking straight at AnCap's hazel eyes. 

"AnCom… I can call you that, right?" the capitalist asked, as he sensed the anarchist release qimself from his arms. 

Postie smiled gently and nodded, giving him permission to keep going. 

"What happened that night?"

Postie shivered, as the memories and the haunting feeling of almost meeting death started flooding qis mind. Qe took a deep breath to calm qimself down, and tried to be strong enough to handle telling everything to the man qe adored the most in the world in that instant. Once the anarchist felt like qe was ready, qe replied: 

"I left my house in an act of despair… and didn't really know where I was going. I needed to catch some air, to take a walk, to bury and hide my feelings; I was out of drugs, and I… I started to remember things I shouldn't have remembered, things I wish I could delete from my mind permanently. 

«I kept walking and walking, my mind racing at every step, until I lost track of time and of where I was. Suddenly, it started to rain a lot and I was soaking wet from head to toe, realizing that I wasn't near any place where I could take shelter. That is when I stopped and realized that I literally had nowhere to go and was completely lost…”

AnCap heard all of this without any reaction, and paid close attention to everything the anarchist was telling him, immersed in qis eyes, in the gestures qe did as qe spoke, and in qis voice. When the anarchist finished, his emotionless expression shifted to a confused and surprised one.

“You didn’t have anywhere to go? How? You didn’t have anyone to call for help?...”

Postie smiled sadly and replied, while qe looked down:

“No. I was all alone. As I said to you before, I don’t have anyone…”

AnCap’s heart broke into a thousand pieces, as the anarchist told him this with such resignation and indifference. He always thought AnCom had been somewhat selfish in leaving the extremists - qe left him alone with two authoritarians to deal with, completely shattered Commie’s feelings, and abandoned the cause qe had sworn to serve. But now he realized something - AnCom didn’t really benefit that much from leaving them; the anarchist’s decision wasn’t at all easy, qe only had the extremists in qis life, no one else, and leaving them would be condemning themselves to complete utter loneliness and solitude. AnCap didn’t face this problem at all - he already knew Libertarian, and his plans for Ancapistan were already done (at the time, he wanted to start Ancapistan after the war ended); he already had a plan B, AnCom never had such a thing - it was life with the extremists or nothing; qis suffering was so bad that qe ended up choosing nothing.

He glanced at Postie after reminiscing in his thoughts, and saw qis eyes ask him if qe could go on. Once the anarchist saw AnCap was ready to hear the rest of the story, qe continued:

“I didn’t know what to do, keep walking until I could find a place to hide or wait for the rain to stop, even if it seemed like it was going to take long. That is when a car appeared…”

“A dark blue one?”

“Yes! Exactly! How do you know?”

“I saw that car drive off when I found you. And what happened next?”

Postie took a deep breath, and took qis hand to qis forehead, visibly embarrassed and agitated. 

“Well… The driver was very nice to me, and offered me a ride to the nearest gas station…” 

“And you accepted?” 

The anarchist nodded and blushed as qe saw AnCap’s face light up with a mocking smile. 

“AnCom! You should never accept rides from strangers, my fellow anarchist! Especially if they don’t charge you anything!...”

Postie laughed at this, and qis eyes started to gleam again. 

“What can I say, I was desperate, I had no choice; it was either that or to stay out in the rain for hours on end.”

“Very well, and you got in the car and then…”

“Then I fell asleep… When I woke up, I couldn’t really make out where I was, and a bad feeling took over my gut. Just as I expected, he stopped, dragged me out of the car and…” 

Postie started to pale and shake and wasn’t able to finish. AnCap held qis hand, and waited for qem to compose qimself.

“It’s over now, it’s all over…” the capitalist whispered, taking the anarchist’s hand to his lips and kissing it softly.

Postie flushed and went closer to him, searching for AnCap’s arms again. The capitalist figured this and tied his arms around Postie’s shoulders and qis back, and the anarchist resting qis face in his chest just like before, as if qe wanted to hear his heartbeat. The capitalist rested his chin on qis head, and asked:

“Who was the driver, AnCom?”

Postie sighed, and in between qis breath answered:

“Radical Centrist. He knew who I was. He recognized me and, of course, identified me as one of the extremists, the one who killed the Political Nihilist and tried to get his revenge.”

AnCap paled and glared at Postie with the panic making his heart race.

“He… knows who we are?”

“Apparently.” Postie said in qis usual apathy. “But you don’t have to worry, you haven’t killed any centrist while we served the Anti-Centrist.”

“You’re wrong.” AnCap replied, while his mind returned to all the memories from the Centricide he constantly needed to suppress. “About a month after you abandoned the team, I left as well, and went to search for Libertarian, who I did not kill back when the Anti-Centrist asked me to. He owed me his life, and I knew I could trust him. The thing is, I found him caught up with the centrists; they had tricked him into becoming a neoliberal, and he was already turning into one. Thankfully, I managed to save him, but had to kill a centrist that was part of Radical Centrist’s team… the Anti-Extremist.”

The anarchist looked up to see AnCap’s dismayed face, and his distraught expression.

“And then you founded Ancapistan with him?”

“Yeah… But tell me, Postie, did he tell you where he was going or something?” his voice trembled from fear, and this started to scare the anarchist.

“No, no… It was all so fast, it still seems so blurry to me, all I remember was staring at the green grass painted red with my own blood and then passing out.”

AnCap kept glaring at qem by the corner of his eyes. A sudden rush of gratitude and affection ran through him as his sweet AnCom spoke, and he hugged them more tightly than before.

“Thank God I was there to save you, AnCom, and thank heaven I can now hold you in my arms like this…” 

Postie closed qis eyes, and let the capitalist caress qis hair, feeling the warmth in his touch, the sheer affection in his hug, their bodies touching, their hearts synchronizing, their love uniting them closer than ever. Qe felt good, safe, cherished. He had hugged Commie many times, and spent loads of time next to him, but qe had never felt this free, this cared for, this loved. 

“Ah, AnCap, I’m so sorry…” qe whispered, lost in qis thoughts. 

“For what?” 

Postie had a strange smile that showed both sadness, pity and regret. AnCap tried to understand where all these emotions came from, and waited desperately for an answer.

“For everything. I was so blind back then, you were right there, and I never saw you, or your pain, or the suffering I was causing you and… and Nazi as well. I was so caught up in myself, I was so selfish, I made everyone miserable in that house. Look at us, look at what we’ve become after I left… Just the ruins of what once was a team… and it’s all my fault.”

“It’s not all your fault, AnCom… You also suffered a lot, and you didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Don’t be so harsh on yourself.” 

The anarchist looked down sadly, and replied:

“I don’t know why you still like me, AnCap… I was a horrible person back then, I was beyond repair; the only way to move on was to become someone else. And I realized this after killing someone in that stupid war and after I almost died fighting it. I wanted to be better, but I couldn’t be better as AnCom anymore.” qe paused for a moment and then added, sighing: “But now I see that no matter how hard I try, no matter where I go, no matter how far I run away from my past, I can never erase it. Never; and this scares me more than anything... because I now realize that the past I keep trying to avoid at all costs will haunt me forever. What happened here tonight perfectly demonstrates this. Nothing matters, none of what I do will change the fact that I’ll always be AnCom, or rather,  _ the _ AnCom.”

AnCap finally had the answers he wanted but he wasn’t as happy as he thought he'd be. He didn’t feel that ecstatic sensation one gets from solving a big mystery, just like he expected to feel when he imagined this moment many times in his head before he fell asleep. For some weird reason, he was scared and slightly anxious about what AnCom was telling him. He feared that Postie was right, and what qe said about qimself would certainly apply to him as well. AnCap also wanted to run away, he also wanted to get rid of all his connections to the Centricide, to the two authoritarians, especially Commie, to the Anti-Centrist, to the centrists… but AnCom had a point - he couldn’t, and he would never be able to. He’d always be  _ the _ AnCap. Only now did he realize this, and it was suffocating him; he felt trapped, helpless, and that was the worst feeling an anarchist like him could have.

Postie noticed right away the effect qis words had on AnCap and guessed all the thoughts and emotions he was having - qe had already gone through them. After a brief silence, qe tried to change the subject, and AnCap’s distressed expression changed as he looked at qem.

“But none of it matters now, does it? Tell me about yourself now, AnCap, what have you been up to since you left the extremists?”

AnCap put on a short and small smile, and told qem:

“Not much. I’ve built Ancapistan with Libertarian, Minarchist and Hoppean, sealed hundreds of businesses, made more money than I could ever spend in a lifetime, got myself a partner, and just been living in this… what do you call it?” 

“Comune.” 

“Yeah, that, with the three of them. That’s all.”

Postie never felt this happy for someone before. AnCap really deserved to be successful after all that happened to him. 

“I see the universe has been kind to you. I envy you, AnCap. You have all you could ever want here - friends, a boyfriend, money, a mansion… You have everything! I wonder why you’d save me. I only brought you more problems, I came to disturb the quiet and pleasing peace you deserved to have. I owe you more than my rescue debts.”

AnCap looked at qem with a serious expression.

“AnCom, AnCom, you forget how much you mean and always meant to me. Would I ever let you die?! And you don’t owe me anything!”

Postie backed away, and had a confused expression in qis face, that AnCap found particularly funny.

“AnCap, I know you like me a whole lot, but not more than money!... How come you won’t charge me anything for this?! Heck, if I were you I’d even charge myself for all the years in therapy we need after all that happened tonight!” 

The capitalist couldn’t help but break out laughing. He forgot how much he found AnCom’s irony and sarcasm hilarious. Once he could finally stop laughing, he said, still smiling:

“I never told you this, but, AnCom, your debt was already paid.” 

Postie was expecting to become less confused after hearing whatever answer AnCap had given qem, but instead qe was now more lost than before. 

“I already paid?… But, when, and how?... I don’t remember paying you anything!”

AnCap took a deep breath and got nearer to Postie, looking at qis green eyes, just like he did when he wanted to say something important to whoever he was talking to. 

“I'm pretty sure you do. Remember that one time, about four months ago, when the centrists found our house?”

AnCom looked up, as if qe was searching in qis long lost memories and after a while replied, with a start:

“Yes, yes, I remember! If I’m not misled, they wanted to burst through our house. They attacked without any warning, and…”

“We only realized they were attacking when we heard gunshots. Well, everyone knows that if you mess with my property or my house, you mess with me, and I wasn’t having it. I headed to the living room’s window to shoot back before Nazi could stop me. You were…”

“I was in the living room as well, hiding from the gunshots somewhere.”

“You were behind the couch. Then... I felt a sudden sharp pain irradiating from my shoulder...”

Postie shivered; qe knew exactly what AnCap was about to say next. 

“The last thing I knew, I was laying on the ground, with my shoulder bleeding; I had been shot due to my own stupidity and recklessness. Everything that happened next is a bit of a blur, but I’m sure someone dragged me to somewhere far away from the window and started screaming for help.”

Postie’s eyes started to become teary. Qe bit off qis lip to stop qimself from crying again. 

“I passed out some time after, and all I remember next was waking up in my room, with my shoulder covered in bandages and my clothes stained with my own blood. I suddenly realized what had happened - I had been shot, and someone had saved me. But that wasn't all - I soon figured out that not only did they save me… they also cared for me. I was weak and everyone thought it would be better for me to rest for a few days in my room; well, whoever this was, when I fell asleep from the pain medication, they left me lunch or dinner, or something to read, or to write on, or restored the stock of painkillers. All of this secretly and without ever revealing who they were. They chose to remain unknown and… I never quite understood why.”

Postie broke down and strated crying silently; qe couldn’t believe that this was really happening.

“I wanted to know who that person was more than anything at the time. I couldn’t really take any conclusions from an affinity contest - back then (it had only been one month since the war had begun) I hated everyone and thought everyone hated me. I had to search for clues or to try to catch them. 

«It wasn’t at all easy - whoever it was, they were very good at being secretive and discret; they didn’t leave anything that could compromise them; so I decided to trick them: I would pretend to be asleep, wait for them to appear and once they entered, try to get a brief glance at them and try to identify them. 

«One evening, I put my plan into practice - I shut my eyes, lied in bed without moving and patiently waited. After a few minutes, I heard the door open, and someone walking in. They stopped for a moment, and then headed to my bed, sitting on it lightly. I felt their warm hand on my forehead and my heart started racing; then they carefully checked my wounded shoulder, which was usually treated by Nazi - the man really knew how to treat bullet wounds. Then they stood up, and left again but came back soon after. I heard them put something on the desk right by my bed; that is when I opened my eyes slightly, and saw a familiar silhouette, surrounded by a few golden rays that came from the window. Then they dragged the chair from my desk to my bed, and sat there silently staring at me. I could feel their gaze even if I was pretending to be asleep. 

«Then I heard them whisper: 'AnCap, AnCap… don't ever scare me like that again!...'. I recognized them from their voice, and my heart stopped; I almost ruined everything as I started to shake. But they didn't notice anything and that is when I, to confirm my suspicions, carefully opened my left eye and saw them. I saw you, AnCom. It was you, those green eyes, that green sweater, that voice. It was you - you saved me, you saved my life."

Postie had a bright smile in qis face that contrasted beautifully with qis tears. Qe chuckled and replied with the excitement one gets from crying from happiness: 

"I need to practice mutual aid, don't I?" 

"And I have to respect the free market. Turns out, it doesn't work only on the bases of money, but rather trades. You saved my life and treated me back then, it was only fair for me to save your life and treat you and save you as well. In fact, I was the one who owed you one, but not anymore."

Postie jumped into AnCap's arms, sobbing from happiness. The capitalist held qem smiling widely from pure happiness, as Postie told him:

"I couldn't leave you there to die… Even if at the time we… we weren't exactly on good terms."

The capitalist broke from the hug, put his hand under Postie's chin, and gently raised the anarchist's head, making qem look at him directly.

"I don't understand you, AnCom, I never have. You have so much empathy for the others, for the weak… I don't get it. You risked your life to save me, even if at the time we weren't friends and barely knew each other. And you say you're a terrible person! If you're terrible, then what am I?!" the capitalist paused, and burried his face in his hands while taking a deep breath, before adding: "But you know, I wish you had never saved me."

"Why?" 

AnCap blushed and took one of his hands to his forehead, trying to hide his face. 

"Because that was…" he started shaking and almost couldn't finish. "That was the moment I fell in love with you."

Postie was without words; qe never knew that AnCap discovered qem when qe treated him that time, or that he remembered all of it and much less that their actions back then were what made AnCap fall in love with them. When there are no words, only actions can express our feelings, and the anarchist jumped to hug AnCap as tightly as qe could. 

"I love you, AnCap" qe said, with a small sigh. 

"I love you too, AnCom" the capitalist replied, closing his eyes and enjoying every second of that embrace. 

AnCap knew this was probably never going to happen again, or at least, in a short period time. Almost as if Postie knew what he was thinking, qe said: 

"How I wish we could be like this forever, and that things had taken another path. But I have no power over that, and I won't dare to interfere in your life any longer." Postie broke from the hug and put qis hands on AnCap's shoulders, glaring at him. "Because, look at you now here - successful, rich, loved, what else could you possibly want? Who am I to rob you from your happiness?" 

AnCap looked away from Postie and repeated: 

" _ Happiness _ ." he had a dark expression in his face while he said this that confused Postie. "I don't think I'm happy here…"

Postie was taken aback by this. AnCap noticed it and added: 

"I always felt like this was what I always wanted, but now… I'm not really sure. Everything's so dull and repetitive." he paused and growled in frustration. "What's worse is I don't know why I feel like this. Why I'm unhappy with my life here. It's like I… I miss…" he hesitated briefly. "I miss the centricide, I miss us four being together, like we were before all hell broke loose. I don't know what's the matter with me at all. I… It's like I don't know or understand myself anymore..."

Postie heard him in absolute silence, and without moving a muscle. When he was done, qe glanced him a comprehensive look. 

"I feel the exact same thing…" 

AnCap found in Postie's smile and in qis empty and melancholic eyes the same pain he felt, the same despair, the same helplessness. The fact that AnCom was going through the same thing as him made him adquire a new comfort in the emotions that taunted him so many times, and he managed to relax for brief moments. He stood up and glanced at the window; Postie thought he was about to leave, and rapidly jumped out of the bed and held his hand:

“No, don’t go yet. Stay here with me, please.”

AnCap wasn’t exactly planning on leaving the anarchist, but he liked to hear Postie ask him to stay. He turned around to face qem, and caressed softly qis cheek, as he muttered in between his breath:

“Don’t worry, Postie, I’m not going anywhere.”

The anarchist was satisfied with this answer, and let out a sigh of relief and weariness. 

“It’s getting late.” 

“It is.”

They looked at each other, and looked away right when their gazes finally met, as shyly as two teenagers in love meeting for the first time. 

AnCom took AnCap’s hand like qe used to do when they were still with the other extremists; but this time it was absolutely different from all those times. Qe felt butterflies in qis stomach, and qis heart was pumping in qis ears hysterically. AnCap was trembling from sheer joy. He couldn’t believe this was really going to happen, it seemed too good to be true, it felt like a dream, but it was all real; it was all happening. All that built up tension culminated in a loving and passionate kiss, suffocated in all types of emotions, and that lasted until they both laid down in bed. 

Everything around them just disappeared; all the pain, all the suffering from before was gone, and seemed so small, so insignificant. There was nothing else but only their love, and nothing else. Only love, love, love. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love them, i love them so much aaaaaaah


	16. The end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, this was one heck of a journey. I'm glad I'm finally done with this fic, but I really enjoyed writing it. To everyone who made it this far,,,, congrats, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it <3
> 
> I feel like this isn't really an ending, but it kind of is if you watched the whole series, you probably already know what I'm talking about at the end... It's such a bittersweet ending, but it's the one I wanted, sorry if you guys end up being dissapointed :c
> 
> Time for the feels (I really should write a comedic fic after this one ngl)

AnCap woke up with Postie sleeping on his shoulder. He started to recall last night like it was just a fever dream, a hallucination, or a weird trip he got from doing too much drugs, but seeing, and feeling the anarchist right by his side assured him that what he was remembering really did happen. He kissed the anarchist gently in qis forehead and watched qem sleep for a while, tangling qis black curls in his fingers. 'Rest, AnCom, rest, my little angel, you deserve it' he thought, as he heard Postie breathe slowly and steadily. 

He stood up, put on his pants and slowly closed the door of Postie's room, and headed upstairs. He didn't hear anything or anyone, there was this strange and peaceful silence all around his mansion, and the sun shined brighter than it ever had in the past few days; the sky was light blue, with no clouds to be seen. It seemed like it was a spring day, even though it was still fall. AnCap couldn't help but smile at the good weather - it really is true that after every storm comes a rainbow. 

He immediately realized that the two authoritarians had already left. He went to their respective rooms and confirmed this - they were absolutely empty and tidied, almost as if no one had ever been there. Afterwards, he went to his room to get ready for the day, and noticed a paper on his desk - it was a note. Before he even started reading it, he recognized that perfect and immaculated handwriting, and right away figured out Nazi was the author of the note; the signature he could see at the end proved him right. 

_ «Thank you for the stay and congratulations for what you built - it is a really nice place, and, even though we had our disagreements in the past, I can't help but feel happy for you. I'm sorry for not saying this to you face to face, but you know how terrible I am with expressing feelings, it's way easier to write them.  _

_ Also, say hello to AnCom for me. Don't get me wrong, I still despise that degenerate, but we were war colleagues and I still respect him (it's quite hard sometimes, but who cares?). Commie is sorry for all that happened, but he won't admit it; tell AnCom he's sorry anyways.  _

_ Sorry for leaving so abruptly and without warning, but it was the only sensible thing to do and you know it. I couldn't leave without telling you this, and something tells me this is the last time we'll ever meet. I don't think I should regret anything though, which is nice. It means I can leave you without any remorse for doing so. Goodbye, Cappie!  _

_ James/ Nazi  White Identitarian _

_ P.S: I sort of prefer the name "White Identitarian" with which I presented myself when this war began, although none of you ever called me it. » _

AnCap read the note with a chilling indifference, until he reached the end. 

" _ Cappie _ " he repeated, with a mocking expression and a smile filled with hatred, as he rumpled the note with both his hands and threw it at the ground, muttering under his breath: "Asshole... " 

He left it there, without daring to look at it while he dressed up. He got ready for the day, wandered around his room and the bathroom and when he was finally done, he crouched down and picked it up, reopening the letter while putting it back on the desk. A voice that either came from his head or from his heart told him to keep the note. 

‘Just in case…’, he thought to himself; perhaps it would be useful in the future, who knows? After all, it's still a memory, it's still an item from the past, he felt obliged to save it. And all of a sudden, he felt a sort of pity looking at that piece of crumpled paper in his hands; why was he still so enraged with Nazi? The rightist had already paid for all he had done to him - he had been completely humiliated, he had that cold, empty, dark heart absolutely shattered by Commie’s betrayal, he had finally known the pain through which AnCap had gone through all that time; justice was already done - what more could he want?... It was no use still being angry at him, he had to let it go; it would be hard to, but he had to slowly try to forgive him and let go of all the hate that he still kept deep down in his heart. 

About an hour later, he had already eaten breakfast and was already ready to start the day. He started filling some business papers he had on his desk, completely absorbed and focused on what he was doing. After he had already written about fifteen pages, he wondered how a stateless place could have this many documents and contracts; he was about to stop for a break when a sound caught his attention. It was getting louder and clearer as the seconds passed and he recognized it right away - it was the sound of the same light footsteps he had heard hundreds of times before. With a sharp instinct, he turned around right as AnCom stopped by the door. Qe was, just like him, fully dressed, with a simple yet stunning dark green sweater and a pair of black shorts, that highlighted qis hair and eyes beautifully. The anarchist rubbed qis left eye gently, as qe glared at AnCap with the other, and greeted with a small yawn: 

“Good morning, AnCap.” 

AnCap thought AnCom looked extremely adorable when qe was wearing the same outfit qe used to wear when they were still with the extremists. 

“Good morning, AnCom. How are you?”

Postie walked towards him, tied qis arms around his shoulders, resting qis chin on his left shoulder and whispered:

“I’m fine. Surely better than yesterday… My wound doesn’t hurt anymore, and I recovered from my cold completely.”

AnCap’s admiration and astonishment shifted into a strange mix of happiness and sadness.

“I guess it’s time for you to go, then.”

Postie nodded, not bothering to hide the sadness in qis eyes. AnCap stood up from the chair he was sitting in, kissed Postie softly, and then booped qis nose with a loving smile forming in his lips.

“Not so soon, though, I still need to fulfill a promise I made to you.”

“What promise?”

“Taking you to visit Ancapistan, you asked me to do that, didn’t you?”

Postie’s eyes gleamed with excitement, as qe replied energetically:

“Yeah, I did! Are you really going to…?”

“But of course I am! When do you want to go?”

The anarchist though for a while, and replied:

“I don’t know… When I feel like it?...”

AnCap smiled at qem and answered:

“We anarchists really don’t like to plan stuff ahead… Very well, just tell me when you want to go then.” 

Postie couldn’t help but feel slightly taken aback by this; for the first time in their life, someone qe loved had truly given qem a choice in doing something, and didn’t even flinch in giving them the freedom to decide. Qe didn’t feel subjugated anymore, qe finally knew what was like being in a relationship as equals, what it felt like to be empowered, to be independent together, together with someone else. The anarchist wasn’t used to having this sort of flexibility in qis choices, and could only mutter a small “Ok” as qe blushed, smiling. AnCap’s heart melted with qis reaction to his words, and he raised qem in the air, the anarchist giggling as qe put qis small and soft hands on his shoulders. 

“I’m really going to miss you, AnCom.” he said, looking at Postie with a sad smile.

The anarchist was already on the ground when qe replied, looking down:

“I’m going to miss you too, AnCap… But I really have to go.” 

“I know.”

The two anarchists looked at each other for brief moments. For minutes that seemed almost like an eternity, there was nothing but a heavy and deafening silence in the room. 

Postie lost all the gleam in qis eyes as qe glanced at the door. AnCap knew exactly what qe was thinking, and braced himself for what Postie was about to ask. Almost as if qe wanted to confirm his suspitions, qe asked with a strange deepness in qis voice:

“Where did they go?”

AnCap sat on his chair and with a shaky sigh replied:

“No idea; they left during the night without saying anything.” the capitalist glanced at the note in the desk, picked it up, and held it in his hands. “Well, except for this.” 

Postie turned around to face him again, and saw the piece of paper in AnCap’s hands.

“What is that?” 

AnCap raised his arm to give qem the note, and said:

“A note. Try to figure out who wrote it without looking at the signature.” 

Postie analysed that handwriting carefully, and whispered with an ironic yet dark smile:

“Nazi…” 

Qe read the note with the same indifference as AnCap and delivered it to him with qis hands shaking, but still stone faced. 

“ _ Degenerate _ …” qe muttered with a grain of hatred in qis voice. “I’ll tell him who’s the degenerate!... He really has no shame, does he? How can he call me that when he… he… hangs around with… with  _ him _ ?!” 

“Didn’t you read it? He doesn’t regret anything - his words.” 

“Not even what he did to you…” the anarchist wasn’t trying to hide the disappointment and anger in qis voice anymore. “And Commie apparently doesn’t feel sorry for anything as well! At least Nazi wrote you this, that damned communist didn’t even bother apologizing to me in any way possible…” 

“Statists…” AnCap sighed with irony, raising his shoulders. 

Postie sat on the bed and watched AnCap working for a long time, helping him here and there. Then, qe went to qis room to clean everything up, tidy qis things, and leave the room as it was when qe arrived. AnCap arrived there minutes after qe finished everything, and came across Postie wandering around what once was qis room. Sensing that he was already there, the anarchist muttered:

“It’s funny, really. I’ve known the three of you for only about half an year, but it seems like I’ve spent my entire lifetime with you…” 

The capitalist didn’t reply, and instead chose to appreciate Postie’s thoughtful and mystic expression, that hid so many emotions and reflections. 

“I wonder…" the anarchist murmured after a long silence. "What will happen with those two?” 

“Whatever God wants…” 

Postie smiled and corrected:

“Or rather, whatever the Anti-Centrist wants…” qe paused briefly and then added with a sigh “Something tells me this still isn’t over…” 

AnCap got near qem, hugged them and murmured:

“Me too, AnCom, me too.” 

The capitalist grabbed qis hand, and drove qem out of that room. Qe closed the door gently and went upstairs still holding hands with AnCap. It was the last time qe would ever be in that room. 

Afterwards, time flew by faster than what they both wished for; after all, time sure flies when you’re having fun. The two of them did all sorts of things they used to do when they lived together - they played cards, watched TV, did and tried on drugs, laughed together at dumb stuff they said when they were high, listened to music, and Postie even taught AnCap to cook something, even if the capitalist insisted he didn’t need to learn anything since he had his maid. It was like time had gone back to months before, and it felt like they were reliving all the moments they spent together months ago. They were immersed completely in this illusion, and they could only wish for it to last forever, even if they knew it wouldn't. When they finally stopped to look at the clock, it was already 4pm. 

“I think we can go now…” 

Postie had a mysterious smile in qis face while saying this that intrigued AnCap for a millisecond.

“Very well. But keep in mind - if we bump into anyone, don’t tell them you’re, or rather, were, a communist.”

“I won’t. It’s something we’ll keep between us two…”

AnCap stared once more at those deep green eyes, that lost and regained their shine every now and then. Postie felt his gaze and got on qis tiptoes to kiss him, with a strange mix of sentiments qe couldn’t really understand. The anarchist felt happy for finally being able to leave AnCap alone, and let him be happy there in Ancapistan, like he deserved to be. But then, the conversation from last night came to qis mind, and qe could only hear AnCap’s voice repeating the same thing: “I’m not happy here”. The happiness qe felt started to dissapear, and qe began to feel bad and regret leaving him… However, qe knew qe couldn’t stay, and AnCap knew it as well. It just felt so, so bittersweet; it felt so wrong, but it seemed so much like it was the right thing to do… 

The kiss ended sooner than what they both wanted it to; Postie put qis hands on AnCap’s chest and qis heart started racing; qis throat tightened and qis pinkish lips started to tremble and before qe knew it, the anarchist was suffocating with qis tears. When qe couldn’t handle them anymore, qe burried qis face in the capitalist’s chest and started to sob quietly and softly. AnCap didn’t say anything: he knew better than anyone else the reason behind the tears Postie was shedding; he didn’t need to ask qem anything.

After a few minutes, they were already outside, AnCap holding Postie’s hand and guiding qem through all those colourful buildings.

“Jesus, this is so colourful and bright… And it’s not even night time. How can you walk around here without turning blind?”

AnCap chuckled and Postie smiled from hearing him laugh at qem in public.

“Why do you think I wear sunglasses all time?”

“Now that you mention it…” 

They walked for about an hour. Postie’s jaw dropped at almost every new thing they bumped into, and qe was fascinated by those yellow and purple lights, those big screens, all those brand signs, all the ads in each corner; it was capitalism in its purest form, it captivated qem like nothing had before, it hypnotized qem, and it drove qem over the edge - Postie felt like qe should hate all of this, but instead qe liked it somehow - it was way too different from what qe expected, it was surprising, and fascinating. AnCap would sometimes let go of Postie’s hand and let qem wander around those streets, and stared at qem in awe, mesmerized by qis innocence as qe glanced at everything. 

At the end of the walk, they walked away from the center of the city and sat on a bench near a small garden. 

“Where are we?” Postie asked with the same curiosity qe was with in the beginning of the tour. 

“I bought half of the area of this park a while ago, I thought you'd like it.” 

“I do.” 

Qe looked around with a serene smile on qis face, and observed the green, fresh nature around qem - the grass, the flowers, the bushes, the bright blue sky and the yellowish rays of sun that lighted the whole scenario - all of it contrasted so well with the city environment qe was in before. It brought Postie a strange sense of peace, delight and amusement that qe wouldn’t trade away for anything. Qe sat on the bench right by AnCap’s side and muttered:

“This is so beautiful.” 

“I find it quite boring, to be fair.”

“That’s because you don’t have any taste, you capitalist idiot!” qe patted him gently in the shoulder, and AnCap laughed. 

“I prefer being in the city, it’s way too quiet around here…” 

“That’s exactly why I love it. Don’t get me wrong, Ancapistan was nice too, but I feel it was a bit too overwhelming. Heck, I still feel dizzy from it all...”

“I know, that’s why I brought you here.”

Postie smiled, looking at him with love pouring out from qis heart. Qe hugged him tightly and rested qis head on AnCap’s shoulder, as the capitalist gently caressed qis dark curls with his fingers. 

“I hope you don’t kill me after this. Because last time I went with someone I loved to a field with flowers, it didn’t end well…” qe laughed, as qis cheeks gained a light pink tonality.

“Oh, come on! Do I look like a statist to you, AnCom? I would never do that!” 

“I know, I know… I was just messing around with you.” 

The anarchist raised qis head, and approached the capitalist’s face, giving him a soft kiss on his left cheek. 

“I like you a lot, AnCap… a whole lot. Don’t ever forget that… promise me...”

AnCap pushed the anarchist’s face even closer, holding qis chin with his fingers and they both leaned in for a kiss. 

“I don’t need to promise, AnCom, you know I will never forget you and your love for me. And this is both a blessing and a curse…” 

Postie didn’t reply, and chose to kiss him again. 

The birds were singing gracefully and a gentle but cold wind blew through the grass and the tree branches. Red and light brown leaves fell to the ground dancing and twirling, following the wind’s direction. It was almost as if nature wanted to make it clear that they were in the autumn season. One of the leaves fell on the top of AnCap’s fedora, and Postie picked it up giggling in that bubbly and energetic way the capitalist loved. 

“You want to keep it?” Postie asked, with a dorky grin on qis face. 

AnCap took the leaf from qis small fingers and observed it carefully - it was a big leaf, with the center still colored with light green, and its pointy ends had a bright yellow color. 

“Actually… I do.”

Postie was taken aback by this answer and AnCap’s attention to the leaf.

“Really? Why?”

AnCap smiled, still not moving his gaze to Postie, keeping it on that piece of nature.

“It reminds me of us…” 

Postie blushed as qe glanced at the leaf in his hands and realized what AnCap meant. Qe stood up from the bench and reached qis hand to AnCap, who took it without flinching. They walked the whole way until Ancapistan’s exit without saying a word; only their steps could be heard, mixed with the sound of their hearts pumping in their ears. Fifteen minutes later, they were already at the frontier. 

Postie glanced one last time at AnCap with teary eyes, as qe heard him say:

“We’re already here. I guess… I guess this is it.”

“Yeah… it was good while it lasted. Sadly, good things never last forever…”

“If they did, would they be worth remembering?”

Postie smiled, with a tear running down in qis cheek, and hugged AnCap for the last time.

“Goodbye, AnCap, I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, AnCom… I’ll miss you too, Postie.”

Qe wiped the tears from qis face with qis green sleeve and with kindness and sweetness overflowing in qis voice, said:

“Take care… and be happy.”

“I will, don’t worry. Take care as well, AnCom. As for the last part… doesn’t really depend on myself only, does it?”

At this point, the capitalist didn’t know how he still didn’t burst into tears. Watching AnCom leave him for a second time hurt more than what he could have ever imagined, but something was easing the pain, and he couldn’t figure out what it was. Something was keeping him from crying. 

“See you around, AnCap.”

“See you around, AnCom. Don’t forget to give me news whenever you can.”

“I won’t, I promise…" AnCap looked at qem with a wide smile; he finally figured out what it was that kept him from breaking into tears. "Once again: goodbye, fellow extremist…” 

AnCap grinned at this. Postie started walking away from him, and drew an enchanting smile of pure joy as qe waved at the capitalist from afar.

“Goodbye, AnCom...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Post Left wandered again through the forest, and almost by miracle could make out where qe was by remembering that fatal night; even though it was night time, qe could still see some distinguishing features of the places qe passed by. The anarchist was sure that in two hours or so qe would be able to arrive home, and walking wasn’t exactly a problem for qem. 

As qe walked by the fields and saw the cars drive by in the road, qe felt a strange but still familiar joy. For once, qe was really happy; qe didn’t know why, or where it all came from, but qe still had this endless happiness irradiating from qis soul and qis heart, which gave qem energy to face anything that came qis way. It felt empowering and even gave qem a new feeling of confidence and security qe never had.

Postie had been walking for over an hour, and could have kept on going for longer, but decided to rest anyway, sitting near a tree. Being so close to nature reminded qem of why qe was so interested in studying biology. Everything around qem was so beautiful, so colourful, so perfect; there was almost this chaotic harmony in the way nature functioned that reminded qem of qimself, qis journey, qis life, qis relationships… Qe closed qis eyes feeling the hot sun in qis eyelids, and the soft breeze passing through qis hair and qis clothes, and felt at peace, with qimself and the world.

“Hey!”

Qe couldn’t recognize this voice; qe opened qis left eye and looked around, searching for someone qe didn’t know. Qe saw a blue and green silhouette approaching qem, and immediately opened qis other eye. When this person got closer, qe could see they were wearing a mask that hid half of their face, and a hat very similar to the one’s Nazi wore. They were also wearing a dark blue shirt and pants.

‘I must be hallucinating’ qe thought to qimself. But whoever this was, they spoke again, saying in a high pitch voice: 

“Hey, what are you doing here?!” 

“Just chilling, my friend.” qe replied, with a cold and indifferent tone.

“Well, you can’t really be here…” 

“Why not?” qe looked away with a slight annoyance. “Is this your private property or something?” 

“N-no, but, this… belongs to a group of people.” 

“This part of the forest?” 

“Yeah…” this unknown person noticed Postie’s bandana hidden in qis pocket, and shifted his tone. “Wait, you’re an anarchist?!” 

Postie laughed and with an adorable grin replied:

“Yes, yes I am.” 

“Oh, that is so cool! I’m an anarchist too.” 

“What kind?” 

Only now was Postie realizing that the person they had in front of themselves was a bit younger than qem. 

“AnFash.”

Postie stood up and backed away, slightly shocked.

“AnFash? Does that sort of thing even exist?”

“You can bet it does.”

Postie raised an eyebrow, and with a slight rage getting through qis soul, said: 

“Dear God, I feel like I should punch you.”

“Why?” 

AnFash was asking this with the same tone a five year old child would ask their parents, and Postie opened qis mouth to reply, but suddenly wasn't able. No sound came out and qe looked down, glaring at qis palms. 

This short simple question made Postie’s mind get trapped in a chain of memories and thoughts that managed to disturb the anarchist immensely. Qe paled as qe remembered Nazi - and AnFash did, in fact, resemble him very much - the centricide, the extremists, then Commie, then AnCap, then the things qe and the three of them had gone through, and couldn’t help to start crying, silently and abudantly. Qe tried to hide qis face and the tears, but it was of no use: the anarcho-fascist noticed it right away. 

AnFash was surprised with Postie’s reaction to his question and didn’t really know how to react. 

“Hey, hey, why are you crying? Was it something I said?”

But instead of calming Postie down, this only made qem start to sob, aggravating qis crying crisis. 

“Now, now, calm down, whatever it is that happened, it’s in the past... Look, I don’t know who you are, or what happened to you, but, may I suggest something?”

The tears stopped falling almost as soon as they started. Postie wiped the last teardrops in qis eyes, and replied, whilst taking a deep breath.

“Of course.”

“There is a commune around here… With, well, you know, lots of other anarchists.”

“Are all of them like you?”

“Oh, no, no, not even close! I’m kind of a black sheep in there, I feel like they don’t like me very much. But I still like to hang out with them…” 

“They’re good people then…” 

AnFash crossed his arms, with a sulky and annoyed expression, and was about to turn his back when he heard Postie’s voice again: 

“ But I see what you mean… I understand you.” qe had a mysterious smile written all over qis face that deeply intrigued the other anarchist. 

“You want to come? I can bring you there, present you… and I think they’ll like you a lot.”

Postie looked at the sky - the sun was almost setting, and the last rays of day shined through the green field. It was an evening very similar to the one where qe met the other extremists for the first time. Qe shifted qis look from the horizon, and glanced at AnFash again; he looked so much like Nazi it made qem shiver. 

Postie got qis bandana from qis pocket and glared at it, qis eyes losing the green color and the gleam they had seconds ago because of the tears. Qe sighed and with a nod replied: 

“Sure.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AnCap walked back to Ancapistan with the same odd feeling of happiness as Postie. He had the leaf from before in his hands, and stared at it every now and then, and, contrary to what he expected, he felt happier than before. 

He arrived at the center of the city faster than what he expected, and his quadrant partners still hadn’t arrived at the place they arranged to meet. Only Libertarian arrived earlier than him, and watched every step he took carefully; when AnCap arrived, he looked at him with a desesperate and curious glance.

“So… how did it go?”

AnCap grinned, and took one of his hands to his forehead. 

“Like hell…” 

“Really?!” Libertarian couldn’t help but laugh at AnCap’s answer. “What happened?”

“Commie found them, and wanted to take them with him… But AnCom refused. So he called me and Nazi to reveal who they were.” 

“The communist wasn’t counting on the fact that you already knew?…” 

“No, not at all. Neither was AnCom.”

“What about the Nazi?”

AnCap’s expression darkened as he remembered the fascist, and he took off his sunglasses. He drew an ironic smile and replied, muttering:

“Ah, Nazi… How tables turn, my dear Libertarian!... His heart was absolutely shattered when he found out Commie planned to leave him for AnCom.”

“No way…”

“I know, I was shocked too, never thought he liked Commie that much.”

“I don’t think anyone did… But tell me: and then? What happened next?!”

AnCap blushed and put on his sunglasses again; AnCom really was right, that place had too many lights.

“The authoritarians left during the night to God knows where. I think they’ll fight off the Horseshoe Centrist, at least that was the last mission we had before I… well, you know; after that, I was left with an absolutely humiliated AnCom in my arms. They went back home a while ago.”

Libertarian breathed a sigh of relief, and then commented:

“Everything turned out well at the end, didn’t it?”

“Yeah… I guess so. It could have ended way worse.”

Libertarian looked at AnCap’s face and tried to read what the capitalist felt. He seemed so serene, calm and collected; he thought AnCap would be devastated after AnCom left, or at least somehow sad, but nothing pointed to this being the case - not his words, not his reactions, and not even his gestures. 

“I have to say, I’m surprised that you’re taking this very well, AnCap. I know how much you liked AnCom, and thought you’d be crying your eyes out after they left.”

AnCap smiled sadly, and tangling his fingers frenetically, replied:

“I mean, it’s not that I lack the will to cry… but... something is stopping me from doing so.”

“And what is it?” 

AnCap smiled and looked at Libertarian, with an endearing expression.

“I feel like this won’t be the last time I’ll see AnCom and… of course, I still have you. And that is enough for me.” 

Libertarian wasn’t expecting this answer, and was simultaneously frightened and flattered by AnCap’s words. AnCap found the confused and flushed look on his face absolutely adorable. He kissed his forehead softly and chuckled with the same bubbliness AnCom used to laugh with. 

The other libertarian rightists arrived when the night had already fallen, painting that beautiful orange sky dark blue. They had dinner and neither Libertarian nor AnCap ever mentioned anything related to AnCom or the other extremists. 

Time flew by, and hours later, AnCap was at his mansion by himself again, since Libertarian had to prepare another business meeting and couldn’t stay with him. He was all alone again, and this unprecedented loneliness made him realize how much he would miss AnCom until the day the two of them would meet again. 

He headed to his room, and passed through the stairs that lead to what used to be Postie’s secret room… he glanced at those stairs that he had walked up and down hundreds of times during those last few days, with his heart thumping from sheer happiness, with his hands shaking and butterflies in his stomach; he saw the door standing right at the corner, the door he opened so many times, the door that allowed him to see that adorable and shiny smile, to hear that voice, to feel that cold but sometimes warm touch, that allowed him to be with the person he loved the most. AnCap wanted to be with qem again, he wanted to feel again the thrilling sensation every time they touched, he wanted to be with his head on the clouds again, to feel starstruck, to feel the love he felt swelling his heart, he wanted to feel the way only AnCom made him feel. He wanted to hold hands with qem again, to feel qis head in qis shoulder, their bodies leaning on to one another, qis lips crashing with his, qis tight and comforting hugs… He wanted to feel loved, he wanted to feel AnCom’s love again; AnCom’s love was like a drug that he wouldn’t hesitate to overdose on. 

All of these thoughts about AnCom occupied his mind for a long long time. He just stood there, leaning against the wall, with his mind racing and his heart breaking at every moment and feeling he recalled. Suddenly, and without any particular reason, he shifted his thoughts from AnCom to Nazi and Commie, but especially Nazi. He remembered the few good times they spent together, when they laughed together at stupid jokes, when they mocked Commie and poked fun at him whenever they could, the times he teached Nazi about economics and Nazi would in exchange help him perfect his german, when they played videogames together, and Nazi always cheated to win, despite AnCap not really caring about whether he won or not, when he thought Nazi was a better person than what the other two claimed him to be… Simpler, better times, when the fragile friendship they had was still intact, before it crumbled and shattered in a million pieces by the love that grew in their hearts for the leftists. He didn’t really know why all these thoughts and memories of Nazi were invading his mind so vividly and intensely, but later he would understand very well why. 

The expensive watch on his wrists beeped; it was already 2am. He opened the door to his room, and closed it. There was no reason for him to do this, after all, he was by himself. However, he acquired this habit when he was with the extremists - he never let anyone see him cry (except for Nazi in some occasions); whenever he felt like crying (and he found himself doing this more times than what he could count with the tip of his fingers), he entered his room and locked the door, bursting into tears after he was sure no one would hear him. Old habits die hard, and, as such, he unknowingly found himself doing this again. 

As soon as he heard the door close, he sat on the ground, took his sunglasses off, and buried his face in his knees, sobbing uncontrollably. He had been holding back these emotions for such a long time… everything he repressed until that moment was spilling in his tears, and he could barely control himself. He didn’t know what he was crying about anymore; the tears just poured endlessly from his eyes like they were fountains. 

His head was burning with thoughts of last night, of AnCom, of Nazi, even of Commie. That night was one of the worst he had ever gone through, and he didn’t know if he would be able to even fall asleep. But eventually, he did. Amongst his tears and his sobs, he closed his eyes, and fell into an agitated but deep, heavy sleep, which he wasn’t used to.

He woke up hours later with the few pinkish and orange rays of dawn. He looked around, and waited in silence to see if he heard someone, anyone… No one was there. The break of dawn was accompanied by an odd and indescribable silence that made AnCap feel more miserable than what he already felt. He forgot how much he hated being alone and how much he hated the peace and tranquility that came with it. He got up from the sheets with an exhausted look in his eyes, and a strange feeling in his gut. 

He stood up, and got ready for the day, which he promised to himself he’d spend as normally as any other. And that’s precisely what he did - he went to the meetings he had in his schedule, he had lunch with the Hoppean and Minarchist, spent the evening with Libertarian, had dinner with him and afterwards went to an apartment with him and spent the night there. Not once did the image of AnCom leave his mind; once in a while, he also thought of Nazi and Commie, but mainly Nazi. 

When he got home the next day, he didn’t even flinch and went straight to his mailbox; a voice told him to check it as soon as he arrived. He did, and surprisingly, his instincts were correct - he had a letter and a telegram. He grabbed the letter shaking and his heart screamed of happiness when he saw who sent it. He would finally know what happened to AnCom after qe left Ancapistan. He kissed the letter and brought the telegram under it, not daring to see who it was from. 

He headed to his room, and sat by his desk, opening the letter, his heart beating at a pace faster than the speed of light.

_ «I think the universe has finally been good to me, AnCap… I don’t know which miracle caused this, but, I think you’ll be happy to know that I’ve found a group of people, more specifically anarchists like me, who actually seem to like and respect me.  _

_ I like them. Can’t say I love their company as I loved yours, since things really do get dull when you’re surrounded by people with the same ideals and opinions as the ones you have. I finally understand what you meant when you said things were dull there in Ancapistan.  _

_ They know you, by the way. Your “commune” has gotten pretty famous, not going to lie. They have no idea of who I am though, neither of who I once was, neither of my past. And that is good. The less they know about me, the better.  _

_ I feel like I’m repeating myself, aren’t I? Forgive me, I was never really good at writing. I just wanted to attend to your request before we parted ways. I hope you’re as happy for me as I once was for you…  _

_ With Love,  _

_ Post-Left, and yours AnCom» _

AnCap read the letter three times, and felt an indescribable joy for his fellow anarchist. Qe finally wasn’t so alone anymore, qe had found someone in their lives to at least support qem somehow. The universe provided AnCom with what AnCap had from the beginning, and this made the capitalist happier than ever. He folded the letter carefully and put it next to Nazi’s note, and the leaf from the last time they were together on top of it. 

As he put the letter on the place we mentioned, he finally got reminded of the telegram under it, as he saw it abandoned on top of the desk. He should have read it first, after all, a telegram is urgent; but he didn’t want to. He felt that that telegram didn’t bring any good news at all, and was (righteously) scared of it. 

With trembling hands, he picked it up. A cold sweat ran through him as he saw who had sent it. His gut wasn’t wrong - the telegram was from the Anti-Centrist himself, and he had not so good news about Commie, and even worse ones about Nazi. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, if you're wondering, Nazi fucking died... well, at least he died in a war UvU


End file.
